


Where Flowers Dare to Bloom

by KieraRutherford



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Dragon Age Inquisition, F/M, Lyrium Withdrawal, Mentions of got and death, PTSD symptoms, Personal Growth, Survior guilt, let's see how this plays out, mental health, some smut, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-11-07 04:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 143,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11050875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraRutherford/pseuds/KieraRutherford
Summary: Hyacinth Trevelyan has been in the Circle her whole life, never knowing anything outside of her scheduled day. Now the Circles have dissolved, she escapes with her friends to the Conclave hoping for an end to the insanity. Instead she awakes with a strange mark on her hand and a new world needing her. A scared, insecure and naive child left to save the world. Can this delicate flower bloom in all of this darkness and despair? She'll have to learn to be their savior, the Herald of Andraste. She will need to rise above her quiet, unsure self and find the place where flowers dare to bloom.





	1. Chapter 1

Hyacinth Trevelyan was the second daughter of Baron Marcus Trevelyan and his wife Lady Emma Trevelyan. That was until her magic presented. Her nanny had cut her finger on a knife while preparing an afternoon snack and little Hyacinth reached up and healed her. The nanny fled out onto the back porch and right into the Baron’s wife. A shy, quiet girl found gifted with magic at a young age she barely remembered her mother’s cries as the Templars calmly took her to the Ostwick Circle at the tender age of but six years. Her life was forever changed, such a delicate age, when life was just beginning. A few hurried words between the Baron and his wife, and within a day’s time Hyacinth was on a horse, riding in front of a young Templar towards a large tower.   
Studying hard, to pass the quiet hours between morning prayers and lessons, all she wanted was to learn. Learn everything about everything. Unusually shy, she kept to herself, rarely speaking more than a few words outside of her lessons with the First Enchanter. As the years drifted on their mindless march she watched as people’s expressions changed. The usual quiet murmurs becoming loud discussions between mages and templars alike. Several hushed whispers from those around her always made her leery. Were the whispers true? After all these years of being in the tower, was there a chance she could one day leave? To be fair and honest she had never thought of leaving. Too scared to face the outside world she would have felt more comfortable within the confines of the tower walls. Her books and her teachers her only care in the world. But the whispers grew louder until one day, a few days before her twenty fourth birthday the word came down. They were free. Whatever free meant. There were lots of long faces staring up at the Knight Commander as he looked over the room. His voice was soothing and sweet as he promised to stay as long as possible and they would continue to run things as long as they could. This brought peace and calm to those young ones nervous about the future. What were they to do? Few had any skills outside of the Circle. Cooking, cleaning, managing life, these were not lessons a mage was taught. No, healing, controlling your powers, demonic possession and to be wary and protect yourself, these things she knew. Right from wrong, honor and truth were things she’d picked up in fairy tales, read in lonely isolation late in her evenings. However, she knew nothing of how to survive, how to act outside of those regimented walls. That frightened her. There were whispers of deaths, templars hunting down and mercilessly killing mages in the wild. The day came a couple weeks in from the Knight Commander that the templars had been recalled to Val Royeux. He wished them all well and that he would destroy the phylacteries of those left behind. Even going so far as to sending word back to the Order that the Ostwick Circle was vacant. Before leaving with the few templars at the Circle he warned the First Enchanter to get those they could away from here as soon as possible.   
There was fear as the First Enchanter packed what little they could all carry and hurried them out the doors a few days later. A parchment in her hand as they fled towards the Temple of Sacred Ashes, in Fereldan. It took nearly a two weeks journey to reach. Travelling to Kirkwall they caught passage to Fereldan and managed to secure horses to reach the Temple. Hyacinth was terrified the whole way, “First Enchanter, why do we head to the Temple? Is it not best we hide? Surely there will be Templars there, and the Knight Commander warned us to stay clear of Templars,” she shuttered holding a long cloak closed tight across her chest, the bitter wind biting deep into her bones.  
“Grand Enchanter Fiona has sent word. The Divine wishes an end to this pointless war and we are to gather there to see it come to light. Pray, child, they are wise and listen to her,” she carefully and tenderly ran her hand over Hyacinth’s shoulder as the boat rocked gently back and forth in the evening breeze, “we must do what is best for us all.”  
That was the last thing Hyacinth remembered as she opened her eyes to the dark and dank cellar. Her wrists bound in irons as she knelt on the cold stone, “where, what?” was all her cracked, dry mouth could stumble out. Falling forward she caught herself against the stone. A sharp stinging sensation pulsed through her left hand causing her to let out a weak whimper. As she steadied herself back onto her heels she turned her hands best she could in the dark towards her face. It was then her left hand burst and crackled in a bright, blinding green light, “Maker!” she gasped as it flared and calmed showing a long gash in her palm. Her mind raced as to what may have caused such a horrid scar across her hand and why in the name of the Maker was it glowing? Before she could begin to process any of these thoughts a light crept into the darkness and blinded her. Blinking furiously as tears filled her eyes she tried to see what was coming.   
“Can you explain this?” a harsh, strong female voice cut through the air about her ears. She barely had time to collect herself when she felt a hand grip her wrist tightly, had her throat been wet she may have let out a yelp but instead she choked on her own silence. “The Conclave was supposed to be a chance to broker peace between the mages and the templars. Now they are dead, our most Holy dead, and you are still here. Why?”  
“Cassandra!” another voice, softer and sweet broke the tension, “please.”  
It was the small break that allowed Hyacinth to recover her thoughts. Wetting her lips, she tried to speak, “they’re all dead…” her voice was nearly as shaky as her body as she sunk back onto her heels, “I… don’t know what happened.”  
The sweet voice spoke, closer this time, “please what do you remember?”  
Her head swam and when she tried to think back it hurt, “there was a bright light. Something chasing me and a woman.” There was a collective silence that filled the room, the two women seemed to be whispering to each other as Hyacinth felt her head slowly return to the darkness about her. She struggled to try to see what was going on, her eyes adjusting to the shift in light. Suddenly and terrifyingly she became aware of men with swords all drawn and pointed towards her. It felt like she was awakening from her harrowing. That moment she opened her eyes and saw the small group of templars circling her, swords at the ready before a quick shake of the First Enchanter had them carelessly pacing off, returning their swords to their sheaths.   
“Go to the forward camp Leliana, we shall meet you there,” the rougher voiced woman half shoved the other out the door. Turning back to Hyacinth she bent down to help her stand.  
“What happened?” she plead with the woman as her shackles were removed and ropes fashioned about her wrists. She knew it wise not to struggle, to fight. They didn’t know she was a mage, and perhaps if she was lucky, whatever happened, there was still a chance she could get away to safety.   
“It will be easier if I show you.”  
Hyacinth’s legs shook and she wobbled as the woman helped her towards the door. Bright, blinding light made her eyes tears up and sting as a wall of cold, crisp air slapped her in the face, “where am I?”  
“This is Haven,” the woman breathed deeply as they crested the top of the small staircase towards the light of day, “you shall see soon enough what became of the Conclave.”  
Walking into the lights of the falling midday sky Hyacinth looked up, “sweet Maker,” she cried as her knees buckled.  
“We call it the Breach,” the woman turned to face her just as the sky pulsed and her left hand burst brightly, a searing pain coursed through her. Lighting every nerve on fire, she screamed out, dropping to her knees, “as it grows it is consuming you. Demons are pouring out and we must find a way to seal it.”  
Fear crawled up her spine as she started to sweat, “what? Demons?” she looked down at her hand, watching it glow and pulse with the rhythm of the Breach in the sky, “Maker please,” she began to sob, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I’m… I’m afraid,” she gulped deeply before giving her head a soft shake, “but I want to help. I… I need to help.”  
“My name is Cassandra Pentaghast,” the woman gave a faint hint of a smile as she helped Hyacinth up to her feet. With a motion to follow her, she began marching towards a set of large wooden gate doors.  
Hyacinth took in a deep breathe trying to shake off the pain that was still flickering through her like sparks arcing across each nerve in her body. Making it difficult to focus and think, “why do they stare so?” she was quickly becoming aware of the people coming out of their buildings, tents and each giving snarled glances as they passed by.  
Continuing her pace through the small encampment towards the large gate Cassandra took a moment to look around at the angry faces peering down at them, “they have decided your guilt, they need it. They need someone to hold responsible for the loss of the most Holy, and they hold you at fault,” walking towards the large gate she yelled ahead, “open the gate!”  
A small group of men in armor Hyacinth had never seen before quickly bustled about and began opening the large door, using some unseen mechanical device. As the gates opened and Cassandra led them through, she turned to face Hyacinth, “follow me, it isn’t far,” she carefully withdrew a knife concealed in her belt. Hyacinth closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to see what might come until she felt the tug of the blade between her palms as the rope was cut loose, “there will be a trial after this, I cannot guarantee anything else. Stay close, there may be demons along the path.”  
In silence, she put her head down and sheepishly followed behind Cassandra, as they raced down the long snowy path towards another gate. Winter had begun to sit into the landscape as the snow gently fell against the eerie green glow of the sky. Trees dotted the mountain scenery as they headed up the path. Had she more time, Hyacinth would have loved to touch and see her first winter. Running along the dirt and flagstone path, each moment felt like forever as she tried her hardest to keep up with Cassandra. This woman was clearly very fit, athletic and strong as she raced over the frozen ground, snow and ice crunching under her feet. Hyacinth’s lungs burned as she pushed forward, just as they drew closer to the small stone bridge spanning the frozen river ahead, the Breach in the sky let out a long pulse that shot green streaking comets towards the ground. That same pulse brought Hyacinth to her knees, pain sweeping over her, nearly causing her to black out. She was only barely aware of Cassandra’s arms around her waist as she was tugged to her feet, “we must keep going if you have any chance to survive this!”   
Regaining her focus, she managed to grit out a thank you while fumbling and catching her footing, taking a moment to breathe. Together they raced across the bridge, the gate seemingly within arms reach as a green bolt crashed down into the very centre of the bridge collapsing the section beneath their feet, mid stride. Hyacinth let out a scream as she tumbled down the small embankment, scraping her knees and bashing her elbow off the stones. She came to rest before a pile of broken rubble, a shattered chest and some of the military pieces from the small forces on the bridge.   
“Demons! Get behind me!” Cassandra yelled as she pulled her sword free from her sheath, wrenching the shield from her back to level evenly before her.   
Again, Hyacinth’s mouth ran dry. She’d studied demons in the Circle, the First Enchanter wanting everyone to be prepared once the templars left. Each demon’s properties, their physical forms, all she could learn crammed into late nights sitting in her bunk, the only solace the light from the oil lamp. Though with all her knowledge, all the scrolls and late-night talks with the First Enchanter nothing prepared her for what she saw. Rising out of a bubbling, glob of ebony ooze sprouted two sinewy claw like appendages. They scraped and pulled the mass of rotted black flesh, and melted clothe up out of the eternal abyss. Hyacinth shuttered and stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet she tumbled to the icy ground. The sudden rush of cold to her hot palms snapped her back as she let out a shriek and scrambled backwards until her back slammed into something wooden. Frantically looking about, she noticed it. Speaking to her like a beacon of mercy, a singular intact wooden staff lay in the rubble of the broken bridge fragments. Clawing at it she quickly shuffled and half faltered digging it out of the bridge matter. Standing firmly on her feet she did the only thing she could think of, she cast a barrier out around herself. Focusing hard and intent as the barrier glimmered and danced around her. To her horror she watched as the creature seemed to laugh, it’s burning yellow eyes piercing into her as it lumbered forward. Intensifying her focus, she redoubled her effort as the creature’s arms lashed out, bouncing off the barrier shield. Each pulse of its skeletal claws sent shivers down her spine, “help me, please!” she finally managed to scream as the creature began to pursue her harder.   
“Hold on!” Cassandra’s voice resonated like the Maker himself was smiling on her. Charging quickly, her sword leveled she lunged at the beast, driving the point of her blade home. A howling squeal burst from the creature as it burst into a thick ethereal swirling hazy mist.  
Shaking terribly Hyacinth held the barrier, as Cassandra glared her down, “thank you.”  
“Hand over the staff!” Cassandra barked as she kept her sword pointed at Hyacinth.  
Hyacinth gulped hard, her mouth felt like cotton as the sweat on her back turned cold, “please, take it,” she dropped the wooden staff to the ground, relenting on her barrier, “I don’t want to cause any trouble, please.”  
Cassandra’s face fell and she let out a defeated huff, “no, take the staff. I forget you have followed me of your own choice. You will need it to protect yourself,” she sheathed her sword and slung her shield over her shoulder, “I cannot protect you through this journey.” Not giving Hyacinth any time to answer she began pushing forward towards their goal, “come, we are not far from our destination.”  
“I… I don’t know any combat magic!” Hyacinth sputtered out as they hurried over a frozen pond, “I’m a healer.”  
Cassandra shook her head, “it isn’t that hard. Can you light candles? Make fire for camp?”  
“I… yes I can light candles, but I can’t get it right as a fireball. It…. It always explodes,” her face was red. Was it from the cold, or her embarrassment she could only hope Cassandra couldn’t tell.   
“Focus on the feeling your magic gives you when you light a candle aflame. When you see a demon, focus on their tattered clothing, then envision you are lighting a candle. Cast out your magic and light their clothing, as if it were the candle,” Cassandra’s voice was calm, stern and welcoming as she lead the way up a snow covered path towards the eerie glowing green sky.  
Hyacinth didn’t know what to say. The First Enchanter had tried so many times to help her get something to work and all they could ever get right was her barriers. She had one of the strongest barriers of the Circle. Something she was infinitely proud of. There were students who could melt the side of a castle wall. Students who could freeze half a forest and here she was barely capable of lighting candles, cooling cooked food and throwing up an emergency barrier that a trebuchet couldn’t get through. Ah, but she could heal! Yes, she was the best healer in the Circle. So much so that everyone came to her with the slightest to the largest of issues. Even the Knight Commander himself used her services. Cassandra’s hand on her shoulder ripped her from her memories, “there is fighting up ahead, be ready!”   
Metal clashing against metal echoed over the embankment before them. Cassandra had her shield and sword at the ready as she raced towards the lip of the hill. Snow violently crunching under her feet as she ran, the smell of iron thick in the air making Hyacinth’s stomach turn. Would there be wounded? Dead? She had never had to deal with death before. Trudging through the fine untouched powder before her she managed to get a good look over the crest. Similar men to ones she’d seen near the gates in the strange armor were clashing with demons. Lots of demons as they poured out of a gash in the air above them. She hesitated for a moment before she stumbled and slid down the icy covered side. Limbs flailing, she clutched the wooden staff in her hand as she struggled to regain her composure. As her feet slipped out from under her again a hand shot out and hauled her up, “no time for sitting down on the job Bumbles,” a thick, husky male voice half chuckled as the hand pulled her to a steady stand, “you need to help Chuckles over there!” Following the small thick finger pointing out she saw a tall, lean elven male casting spells about himself. He was in peril of being surrounded at the least as more demons flooded from the tear in the air above them. With her feet firmly planted under herself she focused and cast out a barrier around the man, “that’s the best I can do!” she grunted as she held it in place. The man who spoke with her smiled, “that’ll do nicely!” Several loud twangs broke the air as arrows popped the demons around the elven male.  
“Quickly! We must seal it before more come through!” the elven man raced towards her, and before she could react he gripped her left wrist tightly in his hand and pointed it at the opening. A loud snap and a stream of magic poured out of the gash in her hand and wrapped around the tear. As it wrapped and pulled, she could feel a tug in her hand and an urge to close it. Energy whined and stitched the rip closed the elf released her hand. Once free from his grasp she tugged her hand to the side and slammed her palm closed. With the swift motion, everything stopped. Demons disappeared, the hole gone, and the humming that she felt had ceased, “you did it!” she gasped up at the man.  
“No, it was you who sealed the rift. I am rather thankful it worked,” he gave a subtle smile and nod, “my name is Solas, please do not be frightened.”  
“Varric Tethras, at your service,” the stout dwarven man that helped her stand bowed regally, an odd mechanical object in his hand, “Bianca says hi as well.”  
Feeling overwhelmed Hyacinth gave a weak smile, “my name is Hyacinth, thank you.”  
Cassandra trotted over quickly and let out a huff as she sheathed her blade, “we must push forward. Leliana will be waiting for us ahead. Solas, do you think this mark she has will close the Breach?”  
Standing taller now, and seeming to burst with a silent sense of pride Solas let a smirk cross his lips, “yes, Seeker. The mark should close the Breach readily enough. We need to move quickly to reach it.”  
“Oh good, here I was beginning to think we’d be ass deep in demons forever,” Varric chuckled as he pointed towards an opening through a ruined building, “this way, should be quicker.”  
Cassandra led the way as the small group pushed forward. Hyacinth lingered back, checking on several of the men from the battle. Scratches, claw gashes, a couple burns and a broken bone was the list of injuries. Some had potions and insisted they required no aid, while a couple gladly excepted her hand. Quickly as she could she healed those who needed and raced after the small group. Hopping over a small stone wall she landed on her feet and easily followed their fresh boot prints in the snow. It wasn’t far before she ran back into them, as they finished taking down a small group of demons. Quietly following behind as the more combat hardened members led the way.  
“Everything alright Bumbles?” Varric’s smooth baritone voice broke her focus.  
“Oh, I… uh…” she leaned down as they walked not wanting the others to hear, “I’m terrified. Nothing could have prepared me for this,” she choked back a lump forming in her throat.  
Softly chuckling he reached up and patted her hand, “if you weren’t afraid I’d have to ask if you were real. Seriously kid, its nothing to be ashamed of. You’ve spent your whole life in the Circle?” his voice was soft, his touch reassuring as they continued the walk towards the base camp.  
“Yes, how did you?” she let out a soft chuckle, “right mage, where else would I be from. Yes, they tell me I came to the Circle when I was very small. I don’t remember any of it to be honest,” she felt herself begin to relax and calm.  
“Must be a real shock for you to be going through all of this. What happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?”   
Trying to recall the memory hurt, like little pins in her mind, “I… I don’t remember.”  
“Ah, see should have spun a story! Usually prevents premature execution,” he chuckled as Cassandra scoffed out loud, “oh come now Seeker, don’t be a downer.”  
Before the banter could continue they climbed the last of the upwards reaching path and came into a small clearing. Scouts and soldiers were rushing about, tents with symbols Hyacinth had never see before dotting the area. Cassandra rushed ahead and embraced a tall woman wearing a hooded robe, “Leliana, Maker am I glad you arrive unharmed!”  
“Yes, the situation is critical. If we cannot close the Breach this valley will be flooded with demons. Please tell me it worked,” Leliana escorted her towards a table, with several people standing near by, a large map of the area spread out.  
“Yes, it did work. The prisoner…”  
“Ah yes, the prisoner!” a male voice bellowed, “I want her clapped in irons and ready for transport to Val Royeux. She must stand trail for the murder of our most Holy!” the man was leaned over the table, his fat frame and thick face red with effort as he panted and huffed.  
“Chancellor Roderick,” Cassandra groaned letting out a disgusted noise as she crossed to stand before him, “no. The prisoner is able to seal the rifts, if we do not take her to the Breach this valley is lost to us.”  
Huffing heavier he pointed a sausage finger at her, “this valley is already lost Seeker. Withdraw your men, we must seek the Templars help in quelling this strange magic.”  
Ignoring Roderick, Cassandra turned back to Leliana, “what is our quickest route to the Breach? We are running out of time.”  
Leliana pushed past Roderick, causing him to take several hasty steps backwards as she leaned over the map, “here. The Commander is holding ground here but he is losing strength. There is another path, through the mountains here,” she pointed to an area on the map, “know that I have sent several of my fastest scouts forward and have yet to hear from them. Which way do you think we should go?”  
Cassandra stood with her fingers tapping her chin as she glanced over the map. Grunting she turned to face Hyacinth, “which way do you think is best?”  
Hyacinth nearly choked on her air, “me? Why should I?” giving a brief look around she swallowed hard, “the fastest way would be the best. We need to help this Commander. If he or his men are injured they will need healing,” her legs wobbled slight as she fought the urge to collapse knowing this was the right choice even when everything felt wrong.  
“A good choice, the Commander has been battling for many hours and will need the help,” Leliana smiled sweetly as she walked them towards a gate sealing their small encampment back from the battle grounds, “go quickly, I shall meet you at the Breach. Go.”  
Hyacinth didn’t think twice, she quickly fell into a half jog along with Varric, Solas and Cassandra. Someone could be injured and as she’d done time and time again at the Circle she raced towards the injured party without thinking about anything else. This Commander may be in trouble, his people needing healing at the least and the demons need to be stopped at all costs. Something she apparently had the ability to do. She brought her hand up and stared at the glowing green gash along her palm. What was this and why could it do whatever it was doing? How did it come to rest upon her hand? Everything was happening so quickly and she was trying to keep her head above water. As they raced down a beaten path towards this Commander, she couldn’t help but feel the fear creep up into her shoulders, tightening her neck. “There!” she heard Cassandra yell, “we’re coming Cullen!”   
“Seeker, some assistance if you would,” a tall sturdy man with golden hair swung his sword cutting down a group of demons as he turned to face them, “we need to get this rift ahead closed! Do you see it?”  
Hyacinth looked ahead, a path of bloodied and half broken bodies littered the ground. A chorus of groans and sobs filled the air as her eyes drew up to the same tear in the space above them. She could see the life force ebbing from several of the fallen soldiers and something inside of her snapped, “Cassandra we need to hurry, they’re dying!” she screamed as her feet seemed to move all their own. Racing forward she cast a barrier out around the man at the foot of the rift, “can you beat them back? I must tend to these men!”  
He grunted as he swung his sword tearing through another demon, “hurry, we won’t last long if that rift is open. Worry for the injured once the area is safe!” he took a long stride and pulled her to the side as a demon’s claws came swiping down, “it is not safe!”  
Pushing him off her she cast the barrier to cover them both, “then hold them off!” like the rift before she reached out with her left hand, praying it was as simple as before. To her surprise and great relief, it was. The same pulse of magical energy burst forth and began stitching the rift closed. Closing her eyes, she kept her focus on the barrier surrounding herself and this soldier. It tugged at her energy, made her feel dizzy and light as she could feel a kick back from the rift. Pulling her hand to the side and closing her palm the rift disappeared. Dropping to her knees she drew in a gasping breath, her barrier falling. She was dizzy as she struggled to find her footing, “is it… are we…”  
“Easy now, take a deep breath your mana is depleted,” his voice was soft and warm as he slipped his arm underneath her ribcage and carefully pulled her to her feet, “you shall recover soon, do not resist.”  
She blinked away the blurring vision as she stood. Never in her life at the Circle had she used so much of her energy in one take. Reaching into her robes she pulled a small glass bottle filled with a shimmering blue liquid.   
“Yes, take the lyrium draught, you shall recover,” his voice faltered as he carefully steadied her before releasing his hold of her and walked away.   
“Commander Cullen, you have met the one responsible for closing the rift. We believe she may be able to seal the Breach, could you and your men provide us a little time?” Cassandra leaned on the hilt of her blade.  
“Of course, but she is drained. Give her a few moments, her mana is spent and I have men needing of healing,” he was calmer now, steady as he ran his hand through his disheveled blonde hair.  
“I… I can manage,” Hyacinth stammered as she half fell over, checking a soldier a few steps from her, “oh… oh Maker!” her hands trembled as she reached for the man. His face a mess of blood and torn flesh, “he’s… he’s dead…” she fell to her knees as her stomach turned and she began heaving.  
“Bumbles, breath, damnit!” Varric raced over and pulled her mousy blonde hair up quickly tying it with a strip of leather, “first one eh kid. Doesn’t get any easier, breath now,” he rubbed her back as she sobbed and shuttered.  
“There isn’t much death in Circles, the poor child is getting a true test,” Cullen scoffed clearly upset by the situation, “I’ll get the injured back to the base camp, get her to the Breach before she goes into shock. We need it closed if we hope to avoid further losses,” he bent down and hurled an injured man up onto his shoulders. Turning to those still standing he barked orders to lift and haul out the wounded, leave the dead before he turned back to Cassandra, “hurry, we don’t know how much time we have and with these heavy injuries we don’t have much left to toss at that thing,” he pointed towards the Breach with his chin, “Maker watch over you all, for all our sakes,” his eyes rested for a moment on Hyacinth before he half dragged the wounded soldier away.  
Slowly she stopped heaving and she stood, turning her eyes from the bloodied, broken body of the soldier before her, “he’s right, we have to move. More of those demons could come through and those we saved will be dead soon,” her voice was shaking as she took a tentative step forward, her legs wobbly. Varric offered her a tight squeeze, holding her hand and she gave him a warm smile, “I will be alright.”  
Varric walked with her, keeping his eyes on her as they made their way down a broken pathway before scorched and shattered stone walls. Walls pulsed and emitted an eerie glow from red crystals as they arrived at the remains of the Temple. Burnt corpses and broken half seared bodies frozen in time lined the path ahead of them. It made her stomach turn and she felt dizzy as the smell crept up into her nose, she gagged again. Varric’s hand on her back helped steady her. Though all she wanted to do was run, she couldn’t let innocent people die. With the Breach open death was guaranteed for all, let alone whatever it was doing to the mark on her hand. As she walked along they reached a bannister overlooking what could have been a large dinning hall or open area. Now it lay a mess of scorched earth, shattered and still lit stone and tapestry littered along the ground. Above her head, in the center of the spans contorting and pulsing was the giant green ethereal tear in the veil. She let out a gasp as something rotated and seemed to grow and move in the mist. It reminded her of crystals in water how it moved without resistance and refracted the eerie green light from the rift. “It’s beautiful,” she stared stunned up at the raw energy, feeling her hand pulse and vibrate along with the Breach.  
“In its own way it is,” Varric let out a soft chuckle, “we need to get down there, for you to use that mark,” he looked around when Solas waved him over to a staircase leading down to the opening, “this way Bumbles,” he carefully tugged her along.  
Large looming red crystals twisted into the walls and stone of the burnt-out Temple, “what are those?” Hyacinth blurted out as she looked around, taking care with each step as they headed down the steps.  
“Red lyrium, nasty stuff. Whatever you do, don’t touch it!” Varric’s voice was serious and stern as he kept her away from the closest of the crystal, “its dangerous. That shit will speak to you and drive you mad. It killed my brother.”  
“I’m so sorry,” Hyacinth gave his hand a tender squeeze and they reached the bottom of the staircase. The smell of burnt bodies, fabric and exploded stone filled the air. Staring up she was unsure if she could do anything with the large Breach. She could hear Cassandra call out to Leliana behind her as she reached the bottom of the rift.  
“Everyone be ready,” Solas’s voice boomed over the vast void, “she will need to reopen the rift to seal it properly and there will be demons coming through!” he turned to Cassandra, “it is the only way.”  
“I understand, everyone be at the ready. Now….”  
“Keep the sacrifice still!” a voice boomed out of the darkness.   
“Please someone, help me!” a woman’s voice in distress followed closely behind, echoing through the void.  
“What’s going on in here?!” Hyacinth’s voice echoed out. Even though her lips were sealed shut in awe.  
“That, was the most Holy calling out to you!” Cassandra crossed to her, “what happened here?”  
“I… I don’t remember…” her head throbbed and her vision blurred as she tried to remember what she was hearing.  
“It is an echo, of whatever took place here. Perhaps locked in time by the creation of the rift,” Solas’s voice was calming, reassuring as Hyacinth struggled to regain calm in her mind, “please we must seal it. Are you ready?”  
Nodding she braced herself and lifted her left hand up, letting the strange magic do its own work. It tugged and pulled at her as a loud boom filled the air and knocked her down to the ground. Staggering as she got up, she looked over to see a large demon of pride. It’s jagged and scaled body heaved up and down as the air split with a maniacal and ethereal laughter. Cassandra led the charge with several soldiers and they began hacking and smashing the demon. Clawing the ground, she struggled to get up. Remembering what the First Enchanter said about pride demons she yelled out to Solas, “fire, hit it with fire!” Through the haze of battle, she was unsure if anyone heard her. On her feet, she took in several deep breaths. “Just like a candle,” she murmured as she looked at the pride demon, “just like a candle,” she cast out and nothing. Looking around her she saw archers preparing to levy a volley into the beast. Focusing on the heads of the arrows she managed to light them aflame, “hit it now!” she screamed with all her might as she cast a barrier around a soldier just saving him from a crushing blow, “hurry!”  
The arrows struck true and caught the beast. As the fire licked at its body it let out a wail, that rocked her to her knees. Something about it echoed through her mind, the only thing breaking the pain in her head was the sound of Cassandra’s pleas, “seal it now! Seal it before more come through!” Getting up to her knees, using her right arm to grip her left she raised it to the Breach. Once more magic flowed through and gripped the Breach, swirling around to seal it. Everything began to feel heavy, like the stones around her were slowly piling on top of her. The air from her lungs began to thin and her vision grew dark. Focusing with everything she had she pulled on the magic as she had with the other rifts. Then everything went dark.


	2. Budding Through the Frost

Laying in a half wake, half sleep stasis the soft sound of bare feet on wood roused her to full alert. Bolting up out of bed she was panting heavily, sweat trickling down her cheek. The sudden motion startled the poor elven serving girl into dropping her box of elfroot all over the floor, “oh Creators! Oh no, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to…”  
Hyacinth raised her hand calmly as she gathered her own frantic mind, speaking slowly, “it’s fine please breath before you are sick. What is going on? Where am I?” she wiped at her face as she slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, the room coming into focus.  
“You are at Haven, my lady. You sealed the Breach and fell at the site, they brought you here to recover. The lady Seeker wished me to inform her the moment you awoke,” she suddenly jumped on her heels, hands clenching and unclenching together in fright, “oh, as soon as you awoke she said. Right away she said.” Before another word could be exchanged between the two she burst through the door and disappeared.  
Drawing in a deep breath Hyacinth tried to steady herself. Everything was shaky and weak as she tried to take a step. Gripping the edge of the bed she felt her strength return to her. A quick glance around the room revealed nothing. It was not unlike the rooms at the Circle. A bed to rest in, a small desk to write or tend to one’s self. A small book case covered with tomes, and a small chest at the foot of the bed. Though it was a much larger than the room she had at the Circle, more than enough room for her to move around and stretch, even a small table and two chairs by a window. Seeing a parchment upon the desk she picked it up and read it. Details on her condition, efforts in saving her life and something about a ‘Herald of Andraste’. Confused she placed the parchment back on the desk. She needed to speak to someone, about all of this. Tentatively opening the door and peaking outside, she could see a large crowd had gathered. Hastily she slammed the door shut and leaned against it.  
“The Herald of Andraste lives!” a loud roar of applause broke the awkward silence.   
“Herald?” she mumbled to herself as she slowly turned and opened the door wide. Taking a step into the cool, bright light of day she lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. As she appeared in the door way the crowd erupted into cheers again and chants of praise. A voice broke through the crowd catching her attention, “the Seeker wishes to speak with you at the Chantry!” Nodding back Hyacinth took a slow walk down the few steps of her hut and walked up the pathway to the Chantry. It wasn’t a hard building to find. Most Chantry buildings weren’t. Although she had spent her life in the Circle, the Knight Commander and First Enchanter had fought to teach them as much about the outside world as they could before the Conclave. She was told, the largest building with red and gold banners would be a Chantry. “You shall find safety in the Chantry,” the Knight Commander drilled into all of them. Easily enough she could see a large red and gold banner hanging off the lone, large building up the pathway. As she walked by people cheered her, touched her shoulders lovingly and smiled brightly. It was all very confusing for her as she reached the large Chantry doors, carefully slipping inside. Closing the door behind her it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the change in lighting before she could proceed deeper inside. Large cathedral ceilings with banners hanging down in the gold and red symbol of the sun burst caught her eyes. Truly she had found the Chantry, her first success of the day, she snickered to herself. Brushing a lock of frizzled hair from her face she took a few steps forward. No one seemed to take notice of her and for once she was glad they didn’t. Looking around she saw several images of Andraste and the sacred pyres. She was in awe of this little building. Having heard stories of the largest Chantry in Val Royeux she couldn’t imagine how impressive it must look. She noticed Cassandra dip into a door at the end of the hall and not sure of what else to do she slowly made her way towards it. Reaching the door she could hear arguing. Silently she wanted to run away, but before she could Cassandra saw her and ushered her into the small room.   
“Seeker, I want her ready for transport to Val Royeux now! You two, Templars, clap her irons!” Roderick’s voice was near shrill as he bellowed his commands, face red from effort.  
“Belay those orders. Leave us,” Cassandra waved her hand calmly. The two Templars placed their fists upon their breasts and bowed their heads before marching out.  
“You have no right! I am a chancellor of the Chantry!” Roderick puffed and huffed.  
“You? You are a glorified bureaucrat, a desk cleric. You dare to command me?” Cassandra’s elbow rested on the hilt of her sword as she pointed a finger in his face, “this woman is the only means we have of sealing the Breach permanently, of sealing any of the smaller rifts.”  
A smug chuckle burst out of the corner, Commander Cullen stood firm, “you would take her for a scape goat, nothing more. She is required here.”  
“Do you know what this is?” Cassandra slammed a book down on the wooden table before them, “this is a writ from Divine Justinia, passed to me before the Conclave. If it were to fail, we were to resurrect the Inquisition of old, restore peace and order to Thedas at any cost! As of now, I declare the Inquisition reborn, and we will not stop until we discover the murderer of Divine Justinia and seal the hole in the sky!” Cassandra was stern and firm as she spoke, her passion reverberating through her words as she stood calm against Roderick’s insufferable puffing and childish tantrum.  
All the fighting made Hyacinth want to cry. To calm herself she decided to get a better look at the man she helped on the battle field early, this Commander Cullen. A quick scan and the first thing she noticed was the symbol of the Templars on his bracers. He wore a auburn cloak with golden threaded hem over his breast plate, the silver glinted out from under his ebony and red flecked furry mantle, it looked comfy and cozy. Reminding her of the little stray kittens they’d occasionally bring in from the cold winters in Ostwick. His face was bright, although his pallor was a touch off. Something caught her attention about his eyes. Darken, sunken rims, skin pale and his eyes seemed cloudy. Clear as she could see he was ill, but was that perhaps from the battle? Could he have been injured? She made a mental note to speak with him in private later. A long scar kissed the edge of his lip on his right side. It was pale and shimmered when the candle light flickered. She had to wonder, who was this man? He wore the gauntlets of a Knight Commander, but she didn’t sense the usual templar presence from him. It made her uneasy, something about him was uneasy, burdened. It sent a shudder through her as she carefully wrapped her arms around herself. He couldn’t have been too old, his face was smooth, all expect for slight crow’s feet around his eyes. His eyes. It was then she noticed them. Amber and gold flecked eyes, that spoke of something sad. Why did his eyes seem sad? He turned towards her and she quickly cast her eyes aside.   
“You have made a critical error!” Roderick snarled as he clenched his fists on the table.  
“Time will tell Chancellor. Now we have work to do, if you would kindly leave us to it,” Leliana pointed him towards the door. In a fit not unlike a small child Roderick stamped his feet and pushed his way out the door.  
“I’m sorry I haven’t caught your name,” Cassandra turned to face Hyacinth, a warm smile upon her face.  
“Oh, I um…” she nervously fidgeted with her robe hem, “my name is Hyacinth Trevelyan. Second child of Baron Trevelyan, or so I have been told. Before anyone asks, I have no memories of them. I was taken to the Circle very young,” she peered up to see Cullen’s face drop slightly, “I… I’m not a child anymore anyways. I am twenty and four years of age, a woman now says the First Enchanter,” she let a nervous giggle escape her lips as she tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear, “I have no combat magic, but I would like to help your Inquisition if I can be of any help.”  
Cullen half choked, clearing his throat quickly he turned to Cassandra and simply nodded. Cassandra smiled, “it would be ideal for you to join seeing as your mark is currently the only recourse we have against the rifts. Let me introduce everyone here at this table. I am Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast, the Right Hand of the Divine. Across from me is Sister Leliana, the Left Hand of the Divine, and our Spymaster.”  
“So subtly put,” Leliana scoffed as she crossed her arms.  
“You met our Commander. This is Cullen Rutherford, he leads the Inquisition’s armies.”  
“Such as they are,” he sighed heavily, “I am pleased you survived your encounter at the Breach. We have a lot of work ahead of us if we can surmise what happened at the Temple we may yet be able to find who is responsible. Though presently our first concern is closing that Breach permanently,” he lifted a parchment paper off the table and began skimming through, seemingly avoiding eye contact with Hyacinth.  
“Over here is our Ambassador, Josephine Montilyet. She is charged with handling all diplomatic concerns for the Inquisition and may assist you in anything you require,” she glanced over at an area just to the right of Cullen.   
Taking a small step forward out of the shadows Josephine smiled, “it is a pleasure to meet you my lady. I do hope I can make things as comfortable as possible for you during this endeavour.”  
Hyacinth smiled brightly, the Ambassador made her feel at ease. Her bright smile and gleaming golden attire made her think of elegance she’d read in novels late at night, “thank you everyone. I shall try my best, whatever we need to do I shall give it my all.”  
“Unfortunately, your all is what we require,” Cullen’s baritone voice was stern, “we have word that a Chantry Mother wishes to speak with you in the Hinterlands just outside of Redcliffe.”  
Josephine scribbled away on a writing board as she calmly spoke, “yes, she has valuable information that could help us gain traction. We are but a fledgling organization and it seems your act of sealing the Breach has labelled you a prophet. They are calling you…”   
“The Herald of Andraste,” Hyacinth sighed, “Maker, I don’t know why but it is unsettling.”  
Cullen let out a chuckle, “yes, I’m sure the Chantry feels the same way.”  
Cassandra let out a low snort, “either way, you are a symbol of what we stand for and right now we can ill afford to lose support. Would you be willing to assist us? You will not travel alone I can personally see to that.”  
Hyacinth swallowed hard, “I… will it help?” she was sweating under her robes, and the room felt like it was closing in on her. She would have given anything to run, to get out and drop into the snow outside just to cool herself.  
“We have scant little choice,” Cullen sighed pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger tips, “we have scouts already out in the Hinterlands searching the area and should receive word back soon. Once we receive word you and a small group could set out and reach their location before nightfall.”  
She felt her head spin and the urge over became too strong, “excuse me,” she blurted as she turned and raced out the door. Out through the main door she collapsed on her knees in the shoveled pile beside the door. Breathing deeply, she didn’t hear anyone around her, only the beating of her heart echoing through her skull. Closing her eyes, she took in several deep breaths trying to calm herself. Finally, somewhat aware of where she was she stood up, quickly brushed the snow off and ran towards the hut she had come out of. Stopping for no one she raced through the hut door and slammed it shut behind her. Sliding down the door she burst into tears.   
Cullen stood stunned at the table, “Maker’s breath, she is a child.”  
“She is our only hope of closing that Breach and the key to figuring out what happened to the Divine!” Cassandra snarled back, clearly upset by the unfolding scene.  
“Please, please we must speak to her. Cullen, perhaps you could talk with her? You understand life in the Circle, perhaps she will speak with you.” Josephine sighed heavily laying her board upon the table.  
“Me? I…” all the women in the room turned their searing gaze upon him and with a headache already beginning he was in no mood to argue, “fine, shall I leave now?” he grunted, his tone taking on a harsh and irritated edge.  
“Please Commander, she seemed comfortable with you on the battle field. We need her ready to travel as soon as we receive word,” Cassandra nodded, “Leliana do you have word?”  
Cullen grunted as he rounded the table and set off in his usual, quick pace to the small hut they had brought her to. Several people stopped him along the way to update him on troops, and to let him know where she had run off to. Carefully he approached the door to her hut, debating on how he should address her. His first instinct was to bang loudly on the door, but as he closed in he could hear her heavy sobs. Cursing under his breath he knelt outside the door. In as calm and soft voice as he could manage her started, “Lady Trevelyan, may I enter?”  
There was a panicked squeal and the sound of shuffling before the door creaked open, “Commander?” her voice was hoarse and low as she hid behind the door and just opened it wide enough for him to enter.  
“I was… we were concerned. You left abruptly without word. Are you alright?” Cullen had to let his eyes adjust to the hut as the windows had been closed and a small fire was burning low in the hearth.   
Hyacinth wiped her eyes on her sleeve, “I’m not… I can’t… I’m not like other mages.”  
“You’ve been in the Circle your whole life and you do not know how to use combat magic?” Cullen was skeptical to say the least. His time in Kirkwall had taught him that words rarely match actions with some people and he was naturally on edge.  
Flopping down upon the bed she started to sob again, “no, Maker no. I’m a healer. The best I can do is light a small fire to warm myself, or cool something that is overly hot!”  
Cullen was shocked by her reactions, either she was an actress the likes of which he’d never seen before or she was being genuine with him, “what Circle did you come from?”  
Sniffling heavily, she looked over at him, “why? Do you not believe me? The mages and Templars at Ostwick Circle were so nice and understanding. They believed me. Trained me to heal, and I heal very well!” she shook her hand at him as she wiped her face, “I just… I don’t want to hurt anyone.”  
He stood there in shock. In all his time in Kirkwall, and Kinloch Hold he’d never seen a mage quite like this one. Rubbing the base of his neck he struggled to find the words to reassure her, “Maker, I had no idea. Each Circle is different and I trust that your Templars knew…”  
“My Templars?” she quirked an eyebrow up at him, “you wear the gauntlets of a Knight Commander, who are you!?” she stood glaring at him, “why did they send you to see me? Are they concerned I shall fall victim to possession? Why?”   
Throwing his hands up Cullen began shaking his head, “no, Maker no. I…” he sighed, “I was a Knight Commander, once, but I am no longer a Templar.”  
Squinting hard Hyacinth nodded, “you don’t feel like the Templars I know. Something is different with you,” she took a step forward, her right hand glowed a soft blue, “you are sick…” she brought her hand up and before she could do anything Cullen snatched her hand out of the air, gripping her wrist tightly, “you’re hurting me!” she squealed.  
“Maker!” he uttered, dropping her hand and taking a step back, smashing into the wooden door behind himself, “I’m sorry, I… I should go, please forgive me.” With a fluidic moment, he gripped the handle and quickly disappeared.  
Looking down at her wrist, it was already starting to bloom a bright red bruise. What could have made the Commander react in such a way? She focused her hand out and quickly healed the bruise before it had a chance to fully develop. It would be a long night if she just sat here, swallowing her pride she cleaned herself up. Using some cooling magic to take the puffiness from her eyes before she drew in a deep breath and walked out the door of her hut. Calmly she strolled with her hands clasped behind her back towards the Chantry. As she walked up the tamped, dirt path Varric walked over to her, “hey Bumbles, how are you doing kiddo? You didn’t look so well earlier. Better than Curly though. He came storming through here like a cat with his tail caught in the storm door.”  
It caught Hyacinth completely off guard, “Curly? What?”  
Varric let out a chorus of chuckles, a large golden ring necklace bounced playfully off his chest, “Commander Cullen. He’s usually a foul bastard but he was in rare form storming back up this way.”   
“He met me just a few moments ago,” her voice shook as she mindlessly gripped her wrist, “I should speak with Cassandra.”  
“Hey, if Curly said something off or did something, give him a break. He was in Kirkwall when everything went down. He’s seen some shit, been through even more shit. He’s a decent guy, give him a chance,” Varric clapped his hands together and rubbed them over the small campfire beside them, “besides, word is we’ll be leaving come morning to head to the Hinterlands. Something about a Mother wanting a word with you.”  
Hyacinth nodded, not sure if she should believe the dwarf and his casual words, “leaving tomorrow, yes, yes excuse me,” she patted him kindly on the shoulder and continued her trek towards the Chantry. Not paying him any further mind she walked through the large doors to the building, letting her eyes adjust to the light she nearly walked right into Leliana, “oh forgive me, I’m so sorry! Are you injured?” she quickly righted herself, checking Leliana for any injury.  
“Oh, no I am quite alright, thank you for your concern,” Leliana smiled warmly, “are you alright? Commander Cullen said his meeting with you did not go over as well as he had hoped.”  
Hyacinth sighed heavily, “it is… I’m alright, fine really,” she wasn’t sure if she should or could trust this woman yet and there was much to do, “I was told we leave tomorrow for the Hinterlands. Is that true?”  
“Yes, Cassandra, Varric and Solas will accompany you. We hope that whatever information Mother Gisele has will prove to be worth the journey. You should get some rest, I will have someone bring you something to eat and drink. Please, you have had a trying day,” Leliana calmly ushered her back out the door, her voice sweet and steady, lead Hyacinth to relax and willingly comply.   
Heading back to her hut she kept playing the event over and over in her mind. What had she done wrong? What could have upset him? As she walked to her hut she decided she wanted to go for a bit of a walk. Walking down the path the gate guard smiled and nodded as she walked through. The sun was slowly setting against the back drop of an iced over pond. The ice twinkled and glittered, something Hyacinth had only ever seen out her small window and read about in books. Wood bashing against wood drew her attention away from the wintery scene. Facing the source of the sound she witnessed Commander Cullen standing at the front of a large group of men and women practicing with wooden weapons. Shifting her weight uncomfortably she watched him bark orders and roughly correct the errors of the recruits.  
“You there, that’s a shield in your hand block with it! If that man were your enemy you’d be dead!” he roared as he forcefully moved the recruits arm to sit at the angle he wanted, the wooden shield trembling in the recruit’s hand.  
Gulping she put her head down and without a sound she scurried towards the pond. Dodging between tents she quickly got to the frozen pond. Sliding down the embankment she landed on the ice. An impish grin upon her face she bent down and touched the surface, carefully pushing away the snow. It was exciting to be able to see the fish still swimming under the ice. Life still going about itself despite the harsh and solid mass of frozen pond water above there was still room to live and be. A small red scaled fish seemed to stop and look up at her, “hello there,” she grinned, “its alright I don’t want to eat you,” she chuckled as the little fish swam in a circle before her. “You’re a cute one, yes,” she giggled, “I think I’m going to call you Scarlet, I do hope you are a girl fish.” As if content with its new name the little fish flicked it’s tail and puckered it’s lips up at her. “Oh, come spring I’ll come feed you, yes when the ice thaws. We’ll be the best of friends I know it,” she laid her palm on the ice feeling the sharp tingling of cold, “we never had ice at the Circle, you know. No cute fish either. They had cats, but I doubt you’d get along very well with Mittens,” she let out another soft giggle as she drew in a long deep breath of the cool fresh air, “they want me to be some prophet. A symbol, but all I want to do is hide. I envy you, little Scarlet. You get to live and play with a wall of ice to protect you from all harm.”  
“We can’t always be safe behind a thick wall of ice,” Solas’s voice broke the silence and made Hyacinth jump, “I apologize, I hadn’t intended to startle you.”  
Panting heavily, she placed her hand over her heart, “I didn’t hear you coming, I’m sorry. I…” she let out a warm chuckle, “was talking to a fish. I’m not insane, I swear to the Maker.”  
Solas let out a chuckle, “Circle life, it does little for those looking to live outside of it. You have my sympathies.”  
Hanging her head, she nodded, “I know so little of this wonderful world. Everything I know I have read, or heard has been in stories. It is, different to see if for yourself,” she looked down to see her little friend has swam off, “and it is just as lonely.”  
“Come, you should rest before we leave tomorrow morning. We will have plenty of time to talk along the road,” he held out his hand to her and helped her climb the small side of the pond back onto the frozen path.  
“Thank you,” she smiled looking up to the training yard to see it empty, “I suppose it is late.”  
They walked along the path back up and through the gate in silence. Enjoying each other’s presence until they needed to bid each other good night and Hyacinth returned to her hut. A tray of food upon her desk and a bottle of wine greeted her. This was something she was used to. Sitting down at the small desk she set about her meal. It was different then the Circle, rich thick gravy, vegetables and meat in a bowl with a fresh hunk of bread. It wasn’t bad, no in fact she rather enjoyed it. A satisfied tummy and a glass of wine made her yawn.   
Unsure of what to do, she stripped her robe off and hung it over the back of the desk chair. In nothing but her smalls and a bra band she pulled back the fur blankets and crawled into bed. Another long yawn and she settled into the bed. Closing her eyes things didn’t feel right. The bed was soft, blankets clean and there was no one around her. Pulling the blankets up to her chin she tried to let the days events go. They needed her to be strong, to be ready for whatever was to come next. It was just a meeting with a Chantry mother, nothing dangerous or difficult. She reassured herself. The whole area was quiet save for the soft crackling of fires, and the branches of trees swaying in the night air.   
She awoke what felt like only minutes later, a rush of panic overwhelmed her and without a thought she cast a barrier out to surround herself. Panting she searched the room with her eyes as best she could, unsure of where she was. It wasn’t very long before she remembered. Letting the barrier drop she closed her eyes tight, a few tears trickled free as she tried to stop them from flowing. What had woken her so harshly? Focusing in the night she thought she heard a man, grunting and begging. When she stood to look out the window all she could see was darkness and all she could hear was silence. Perhaps she was hearing things, a new place, a new life, perhaps a trick of the mind. It was still very dark outside, too dark for her to venture forth and seek out whatever may have called out. She’s certain whatever it was it was in pain and suffering. That tugged at her heart and made her sad as she cozied back into her bed. Letting out a sigh, she closed her eyes again, listening as hard as she could to the echoes in the night. Maybe it was just sleeping in a new place, maybe it was the wind, or maybe it was the state between wake and sleep messing with her mind. Slowly, and peacefully she drifted back to sleep.  
The crow cawing loudly upon her roof woke her. Scrubbing her eyes, she sat up in bed. A fresh bath, and fresh clothes were laid out in her room. “Maker, am I dreaming?” she looked around half expecting a desire demon to tempt her as she cautiously neared the tub. She hadn’t had a bath since they fled the Circle. They were apostates on the run after all and all their lives were at risk to rest for too long. The urge was too great to pass up and she hastily discarded her remaining small cloth and bra band. Slipping down into the water it was hot and felt glorious. She couldn’t help but let out a satisfied moan as she lowered her face and hair into the water. Rubbing the droplets from her eyes she saw the small bottles, like the ones at the Circle on a small stool beside the tub. Not sure as to when someone would come for her she moved as quickly as she could. Scrubbing and washing away the grime felt wonderful. It wasn’t unusual to rush a bath in the Circle, especially when they had training in potions. Elfroot left hands and hair sticky and green. Embrium pollen clung to hair and its red leaves stained everything they touched. Her old room was shared with another female. An elven girl taken from the local Alienage at the age of ten. It took them a long time before they could talk, as Talris was angry at first. She stayed angry for a long time and one of the few things that made their friendship bloom was when Hyacinth would give up her bath time early so Talris could indulge in a longer soak. It meant everything to the young elven girl. Hyacinth couldn’t help but wonder what became of Talris. She had left when the Circles first were dissolved. Unafraid of anything and eager to start out on her own she marched proudly out the front doors and into the local woods.   
Dipping her head back into the water she ran her hands through the knots and with the waters help began carefully untangling her shoulder length hair. She hated her hair, a dreadful mousy blonde, she would tell Talris. How she envied the elven woman’s auburn locks. So much so she had tried and failed to dye her hair with Embrium and a couple other herbs. The First Enchanter giggled while scolding her mercilessly as they concocted a potion to remove the horrid vibrant pink color. Sensing time was moving quickly she pulled her head out of the water, squeezed the ends and let out grumble as she reached for the towel on the chair. Drying herself off she picked up the new clothes laid out for her. Simple robes, with basic undergarments. It was comforting to see something so familiar. She wondered, did they have such things laying about or was this fashioned just for her comfort? Dressing in silence she was satisfied everything fit well enough. Finishing with the last strings on her leggings she was startled by a knock on her door, “oh,” she jumped, “I am decent, you may enter,” the words rattled off her tongue as they always had from years of saying it in her quarters.  
“Herald,” Cassandra’s voice cut through the air with near surgical precision, “I am glad you managed to bathe this morning. We are set to leave soon. There is a pack ready for you at the gate. I shall accompany you when you are prepared,” she took a step back from the door and turned her back to afford a few more moments of privacy to Hyacinth.  
Folding her robe back down and taking in a deep breath she combed out her hair and braided it down her head, tying it with the same leather strip Varric had put in her hair. She was hopeful that maybe it would bring her good luck. Opting to give the room one last look, she nodded and opened the door, “I believe I am ready. Do I look the part?”  
Cassandra chuckled, “you do now. Come, we have a proper staff for you with your pack. It will be a long day trek. Are you prepared for the journey?”  
Nodding she followed Cassandra as she spoke, “we travelled far from Ostwick to get to the Conclave. Too afraid to linger we moved as quickly as we could. If we don’t run the whole way, I shall be more than fine,” she smiled warmly hoping to perhaps make a friend in the lady Seeker, “may I ask you a question?”  
Moving forward and reaching the gate Cassandra handed Hyacinth a sack to carry and her new staff, “you may ask as we walk and I shall endeavour to answer the best I can.”  
Their conversation was small at first; where are you from? How long have you worked for the Divine? What is a Seeker? Cassandra asked several questions herself; do you know anything of the Templar and mage rebellion? Do you remember your family? Have you any friends? These questions opened and broadened as Varric and Solas kept up. Hyacinth learned a Seeker was like a templar and Cassandra had a special talent. She could cause the lyrium in Templar and mage’s blood to burn, yet she took no lyrium herself. Hyacinth found this to be incredible and was fascinated with it. Varric was from Kirkwall and had been unwillingly, willingly recruited by Cassandra. Hyacinth could feel the tension between the two and caught herself many times giggling at their banter. Solas preferred to be quiet, until Hyacinth wanted to discuss magic. Oh, on that front Solas seemed to know everything about magic, the veil and potions. Hyacinth got close to Solas and the two gabbed on and on until they finally reached their base camp late in the evening. The Hinterlands were lush and covered in trees and bushes. Embrium and elfroot nearly everywhere. Hyacinth enjoyed the outdoors greatly and with Solas helping her with her magic she was beginning to feel at home, “you remind me of my First Enchanter. You are amazingly patient with me. I never expected anyone would want to take this amount of time with me,” she blushed brightly as they prepared to bunk in for the night.  
“Is that because I am an elven apostate or because you are so new from the Circle?” he quipped back.  
“Oh no, no, not because you are an elf!! Oh, no! To be honest, I barely notice people’s looks. I only wished to say you are incredibly knowledgeable and kind,” she stumbled over her words as she dropped her pack into the tent her and Cassandra would share.  
Dropping his pack into the tent he was sharing with Varric he apologized, “I am sorry. I am not used to being anything more than an elf at times. I appreciate your honesty. You should sleep, we can continue our discussion tomorrow,” he seemed to genuinely smile at her as he dipped into his tent.   
“Tomorrow,” she smiled as she looked up, the stars dotting the evening sky, “I’m just glad I can see a tomorrow,” with that she ducked into her tent and prepared for bed.


	3. In Darkness We Bloom

It was a cold night and Hyacinth was glad the bedroll was warm. Not like the rushed blankets and bodies forced to huddle together when they fled the Circle. She awoke to the sweet symphony of song birds twittering on a branch above them. Rubbing her eyes and stretching out her back she rolled up on her side to get up. Seeing the bedroll beside her empty she let out a soft chuckle. Cassandra was a work horse, and dedicated to her craft. It was admirable at the least. Dressing quickly, she made her way out of the tent and to the small campfire. Stretching her arms over her head she smiled warmly at Varric and Solas, “sleep well everyone?”  
“As well as could be expected,” Solas returned her smile as he sipped on a steaming cup.  
“I’ve been worse,” Varric grunted as he dipped his spoon into his bowl.  
Getting a bowl passed from an Inquisition scout she looked around. The scenery was a wash of emerald and jade greens. Birds of all manner chirping and sitting on branches high above them. It wasn’t too hard to see the ugly side. A few yards away she could see billowing smoke rising above the tree line, “what is that?” she pointed out as she noticed a dwarven woman speaking to Cassandra.  
“Oh that?” Varric snorted, “welcome to the center of the mage and templar rebellion. If you see smoke, it’s probably mage fire. It isn’t going to get any prettier either,” swirling his spoon in his bowl he groaned, “damnit Blondie.”  
Finishing the mouth full of porridge Hyacinth retorted, “Blondie? What does that mean?”  
“He’s someone I knew once. Caused all kinds of trouble together. He uh…” letting out a long-defeated breath he shook his head, “he’s the reason they’re fighting. All this, death.”  
Solas rested his arm on Varric’s shoulder, “you could not have possibly known what he was planning on accomplishing, child of the stone.”  
Varric sighed and remained silent, returning his focus to his breakfast. Hyacinth decided not to push the subject, clearly it was causing him some discomfort. Setting her focus to her breakfast she was curious about what would happen next. They’d arrived in the Hinterlands but now they needed to find Mother Gisele and pray that whatever information she had would be useful to them. After all they apparently were walking into a war zone. Hyacinth shuttered, the image of the dead soldier before the Breach flashed through her mind.   
“Finish your breakfast, then we move out,” Cassandra bellowed as she marched back to her tent.  
The Inquisition scout she was talking to joined them by the fire, “good morning everyone,” she smiled helping herself to a steaming bowl of porridge.   
“How does it look out there?” Varric grunted as his bowl was taken by another scout.  
“You don’t really want to know do you?” the young dwarven woman gave him a knowing smirk. Waiting a few moments and seeing no shift in his appearance she nodded, “you do then. Alright. We have templars and mages killing each other and everything in between. They don’t talk they just attack. A lot of the area is a mess. Dead bodies and burnt out everything. Mother Gisele is in the middle of it. Trying to apply aid to those caught in the middle, at a place called the Cross Roads. She’d got a little healer’s area set up. They’ve been under attack the last two days and we’ve done our best to keep the heat off her. Perhaps you can convince her to move somewhere safer, or give me the bodies I need to clear these pricks out.”  
Hyacinth nearly dropped her bowl, the thought of so much destruction and what the scout said was turning her stomach. After all she wasn’t a mage like those in the rebellion, she was a healer. Setting her bowl down she stood and walked back to her tent. Sitting inside she drew in a few hurried breathes to try to calm herself and avoid losing her breakfast.   
“Everything alright?” Cassandra’s voice broke her focus and caused her to jump, “I apologize, I did not intend to startle you.”  
Catching her breath Hyacinth nodding, “it’s quite alright, I didn’t realize you were in here. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”  
Cassandra folded up a small writing kit and packed it away into her travelling sack, “is there something the wrong?”  
Hyacinth just stared ahead, “so much death… can we really make a difference? Can we truly change this?”  
Cassandra folded up the letter she was working on and sealed it, “bringing a stop to the death will make a difference. It might not feel like much now but it will. We must have faith the Maker will see us through. You believe in the Maker, do you?”  
“Yes, oh yes,” she nodded and thought about what Cassandra had said, “I just, I don’t think I’m meant for this,” she choked the last words out, afraid she closed her eyes tight.  
“The Maker would have never set you on this path if he did not think you were capable. You are naïve, young and inexperienced but these things will change. Have faith in the Maker and his choices,” she let a soft smile spread across her face before laying a tender hand on Hyacinth’s shoulder.  
Swallowing hard Hyacinth nodded, “thank you. This… is nothing like the Circle. I feel so… alone and like a child, really. So much hurt and I am unable to…” she gave an angered grunt, “it is maddening.”  
Cassandra chuckled as she helped Hyacinth to her feet and out of the tent, “we do what we can, when we can, with what we have. When we have more, we will be able to do more for these people. We must establish the Inquisition, gain power and prestige so those who can aid us, will. Then we can pass that on to these people. In time, we will do what is right,” she patted Hyacinth on the shoulder, “now I must get this letter to scout Harding. We shall leave soon.”  
The rests of the time blurred for Hyacinth. Nothing really registering. Packing their gear, they got prepared to face combat, something that still made Hyacinth nervous. Prepared to set out with the dwarven scout Harding, they marched off towards the Cross Roads. A quick conversation passed between Harding and Cassandra before everyone drew their weapons and walked into the clearing. Burnt out buildings, large shards of ice with dead bodies and parts of bodies trapped inside dotted the Cross Roads. Burnt corpses and the smell of death hung heavy. Wooden cabins dotted the area, one less than a hundred yards from them burned brightly.   
“By the Maker,” Hyacinth gasped loudly, throwing her hand over her mouth.   
“There, that cabin over there is where Mother Gisele is,” Cassandra pointed, “and it looks like there is a wave of rogue Templars and mages approaching!”   
On either side of the cabin both factions gathered. Mages on the east and Templars directly ahead of them. It was no surprise when Cassandra charged ahead, Inquisition forces firing arrows from the tree line while several soldiers stayed close to the healer’s cabin. Hyacinth felt terror creep through her core as she gripped the cold steel grip of her staff. “Like a candle, like a candle,” she chanted repeatedly to herself. It shocked her completely when she focused on the templar before Cassandra and the hem of his long tunic caught on fire, “I did it!” she bounced up and down gripping her staff, “I actually did it!”  
“Great Bumbles, now don’t let it go to your head!” Varric shouted over the sound of metal clashing against metal. Sweat and iron hung heavy in the air swirling around them as Hyacinth moved to follow the charging forces into the clash. Catching movement across the field she noticed a group of Templar archers creeping out of the tree line. In horror, she could see them setting up, and preparing to send a volley down on an unsuspecting group of Inquisition soldiers. Soldiers that were hunkered down trying to pull a plain clothed man out of harms way.   
With no time to do much else she poured her energy into the crystal affixed to the top of her staff. Focusing with all her might she cast out a wide barrier in hopes of deflecting the arrows from both the soldiers and the wounded man. Holding tight, barely breathing, her knuckles white against the metal grip she prayed to the Maker it would be strong enough. Each moment felt like it was frozen in time as the archers knocked their arrows upon their powerful recurve bows and began to pull back. Again, she tried to focus as the sweat started to form and bead up down her back and into the waist band of her leggings. She held her breath tight in her chest as she watched the arrows fly from their taut bow strings and rain down upon the unsuspecting, scrambling party. The barrier wavered and bright bursts batted several arrows, all landing harmlessly away from their intended targets. Dropping down to one knee she yelled out, “archers, please,” pointing towards them.  
Solas picked up on her cries, “I have them,” racing forward he slammed his staff into the ground. His hands flared as his lips muttered spells. The knotted ironbark staff seemed to pulse as his energy flowed and altered the arcane around it before he thrust his hands forward, energy cascading down over the archers. Twitching and convulsing the archers fell to the ground, smoke rising from their agony ridden faces. “The archers are no longer any concern. Cover Varric!” Solas proclaimed as he ripped the staff out of the ground, spun about and landed a solid blow to the backside of a rogue Templar.   
Catching her breath, Hyacinth steadied her mind and focused on wrapping Varric in a barrier, letting the shield drop down long enough for him to launch his arrows from the strange weapon he carried. It was a chaotic mess as the Inquisition forces leveled the small band of Templars. Wiping her sleeve across her brow Hyacinth looked wearily over to the mages approaching. She pleaded to the Maker they would see the light and not attack. Loudly Cassandra called to them, pleading with them to not attack. It was for nothing as she leveled her shield chest high and slapped away a flaming ball cast by a very young-looking mage. Hyacinth’s stomach knotted up at the thought of more death. Internally her mind screamed at her to run, hide, get away from all of this. Looking around her something gripped her tightly to stay. A sense of resolve to make things right. These mages were hurting people, lots of people, innocent people. She couldn’t willingly leave these people to their fate. Not knowing combat magic, she decided to provide barriers to those under attack. She could cover the soldiers and innocence, preventing any harmful magic from reaching their targets.   
It was tiring and fast paced, testing her abilities to their limits. At one point, she just managed to get a barrier up as she pulled another down, covering a small group of scouts from a blast of freezing ice magic. Things blurred together as soldiers cut down the rebel mages and she did her best to prevent the rebel mages magics from harming people. Weary and exhausted she slumped over onto a tree stump, singed by magics. Carefully she fixed her hair, willing her hands to stop shaking, hoping they wouldn’t show. Watching the people quickly scurry about made her nervous. Cassandra began immediately coordinating with Inquisition people to secure and build a rest area where they stood. People hurried about, building a large pyre, stripping enemy bodies of their goods and tossing them in a pile. Others placed up tents, put out unwanted fires, began cleaning and repairing near by buildings. It was hard work but with many hands and some help from friendly mages they quickly established a small haven at the Cross Roads. Finally, a large banner was set up in the middle of the makeshift road on a ruined stone post read, ‘Under the Protection of the Inquisition’.  
Everything was a dizzying rush as she tried to fumble to keep herself from collapsing in sheer exhaustion. Never in her life had she ever had to rely so heavily on her magic. After all healers were never on a battlefield in the stories she’d read. No, they were in the camps, ready to tend to the heroes. Slowly standing she shuffled her way over to the main cabin they had originally come to protect. People whirled busily rushing back and forth. Elfroot and the scent of something metallic hung thick in the air and clung to the walls of her throat. Hearing a man arguing, she came around the side of the cabin, a small triage area with cots and medical bags came into view. A woman in long white and red robes knelt beside a cot, the man upon it bloody and severely burnt. From what Hyacinth could make out he had been attacked by a mage. Bloody blisters and seared flesh covered one side of his body. Clothe and whatever he had been wearing were now either burnt away or melted into him. Clearly, he was in pain and in dire need of magical healing.   
“No, don’t let that filthy mage touch me! I don’t want to be unclean before the Maker!” he half thrashed about as the woman held his hand firmly in hers.  
“Please child. Is your blade any more innocent than this man’s magic? The Maker said magic was to serve man not rule over him. He created magic to help so please child, let this man help. The Maker has willed to so,” her voice was calm and steady. A gentle pat on his hand quieted him and with a subtle wave she ushered in the healer.   
Hyacinth knew this had to be the woman she needed to speak with. Steadying herself she brushed the hem of her robe flat and wiped her sleeve over her face before taking a small, shaky step forward, “Mother Gisele?” she tried to smile, brightly.  
“You must be the one they are calling, the Herald of Andraste,” she returned her smile and motioned for Hyacinth to walk with her. Leading her some short ways from the cabin to the main road running through their encampment. Continuing towards a small half collapsed stone and mortar fence, Mother Gisele sighed softly, “I am pleased you could make the trip. These people are in your debt.”  
Leaning her hip against the stone she crossed her arms uncomfortably, “we didn’t get here soon enough. I am very sorry Mother Gisele.”  
A gentle, warm hand laid upon Hyacinth’s shoulder as Mother Gisele beamed at her, “my child you did all you could. More than my brothers and sisters as of late,” she let her hand slip from Hyacinth as she let out a tired sigh, “the few clerics remaining, those who did not go to the fated Conclave are now fighting amongst themselves. Like children fighting for the last sweet in the jar. You, Herald and your people, they are doing things. Trying to help the needy, the hungry and the scared. These things the Chantry should provide willingly,” shaking her head she turned to look back at the small hut, “we are trying our best but it isn’t enough. We need this fighting to end. You,” she turned back to her, “you and the Inquisition can do that. I have names, cleric names. If you were to go to Val Royeux, speak to the people, reassure them you are not the demon the Chantry paints you. You could sway aid to your cause.”  
Shaking her head slightly in confusion Hyacinth let out a whimper, “how? I am a mage and with so little experience of this world, how will I sway these minds? I am afraid, Mother. Afraid I will do more harm then good.”  
Mother Gisele’s shoulders easily bounced up and down as she gave a hearty chuckle, “my child this is exactly why the Maker chose you. One so sweet and innocent, without the taint of this greedy world,” she waved her hand out over the bustle of people. Some arguing over scrapes, others shaking in fear and anger, “you only see the need to help. That makes you a champion of these people. A bringer of peace in harsh times. Perhaps the Maker saw within a mage the chance to undo all the wrongs of man. We shall see,” she turned back towards the small triage area, “you need not sway them all. Only enough to gain the favours you need. I shall make my journey with those I can to Haven. Openly aiding your Inquisition as you need us to. If you find yourself in need of someone to talk to, I shall be waiting.” Softly bowing Mother Gisele quickly turned from her and entered the small cabin, the door barely making a sound as it closed behind her.  
Hyacinth wasn’t sure how she should feel. After all the weight of the world seemed to be levied onto her shoulders. Cassandra’s firm hand on her, snapped her from her thoughts, “oh Cassandra! You startled me,” she breathed a sigh of relief as she turned to face her, “what is going on?”  
“We have set up this place well to protect those in need. Mother Gisele informs me she is heading to Haven. The meeting went well, I assume.” Cassandra arched her eyebrow, interested in what the Mother has said to Hyacinth.   
Gazing out over the busy construction and repairs happening Hyacinth nibbled her lip, “we need to do more. There must be something we can do more.”  
A parchment paper sealed with red wax, the emblem of the Inquisition clearly pressed into the wax:  
Hyacinth has decided to stay and provide assistance with the refugees down at the Cross Roads. This has meant providing food, blankets and supplies. Despite my constant reminder that we should return to discuss the information Mother Gisele has given, Hyacinth has stood firm in her need to help these people. We have met with a cult in the area, obsessed with the rifts. They believe they are the Maker’s work in calling his children back to the Black City. When Hyacinth sealed a rift near their camp they pledged their efforts to the Inquisition. Claiming her abilities are a sign of the Maker’s will. They are now lending aid to the refugees near the Cross Roads and will be sending information along to Leliana. Today we are hunting down the rebel mages camp and the templars to alleviate the pressure off the people here. Once that is complete I am assured we shall return. Expect us within a few days. I shall send word once we encounter the mages and templars.   
Cassandra Pentaghast  
A blood splattered letter bearing the seal of the Inquisition:  
The rogue mages and templars have been dealt with. It is late in the evening and all are tired and weak. Hyacinth tended to the wounded and due to her barriers, many lives were saved. In both skirmishes only minor injuries were had on our side. The Cross Roads people have been praising our efforts and those strong enough have asked to lend aid. Several groups have already set out to join our armies. While I originally disapproved of Hyacinth’s urging to stay and assist, it seems she was correct in her choice. Many of the refugees here are spreading the word far and wide of the Inquisition’s efforts. Come the morning we shall begin our trek back to Haven. Upon our arrival, I wish to convene to go over what I have missed while away and our plans moving forward.   
Cassandra Pentaghast  
An entry from Hyacinth’s writing journal.  
It has been a long two weeks in the Hinterlands. We chased down templars, rogue mages, a cult and I dare say Varric shot enough rams to feed two villages for the winter. Speaking of shooting, by the Maker that weapon is amazing! Varric has something called an automatic crossbow. It launches multiple arrows with a simple squeeze of a trigger. I am told it is impossible to make more, and a large part of me is very relieved to hear that. I cannot imagine a group of people wielding such a potentially deadly weapon.   
It has been exhausting these last couple days. People here are in dire need. Hunger, cold and desperation has lead them to believing some insane things. This cult seems to think I am the word of the Maker because I can seal rifts! The word of the Maker himself! As if being the Herald wasn’t hard enough. I sealed a rift inside their established settlement in an old abandoned castle. I walked out to their numbers bowing at my feet and begging me to tell them how best they could serve me. It was all very awkward and left me feeling all jumbled inside. I knew the people at the Cross Roads needed help and I figured it would be best to send them to aid. Few are to keep their ears to the ground and report to Leliana anything they learned. This was Varric’s idea and seemed to please Cassandra.   
I honestly cannot tell if what I am doing is of any true help. It all feels as if I am simply a drop in a rainstorm. Not enough to be of any use when everything is so chaotic around me. Cassandra has been a strong reminder that what I am doing is making a difference and little by little we are making things right. A mage made this mess, and I wish a mage to make it right! Is that selfish? Am I foolish to think I can handle this? Several times I have woken from sleep, sweaty and scared. Several times I have had the urge to run away and hide from all of this. My sole comfort is Solas. He has become a mentor to me and has kept me grounded. Helping me work my magic and figure out how to cast combat spells. I have yet to properly cast a fireball but I can at least make one now. This is incredible to me, since every attempt before has ended with singed robes and soot covered face.   
Ice is something I can create now as well! I am quite proud of this little feat and Solas seems to be amused to say the least. His smile is infectious and his carefree attitude inspiring if not a touch cute. I speak too much for now. I shall end this simply with the news to come. Cassandra assures me we will be heading to Val Royeux once she can speak with the others. I am to address the clerics and assure them the Inquisition is set to supply aid and relief. I don’t have faith in it. I don’t really want to do it but it seems to be the only chance we have at seeking some support and further help for these people. As long as a child does not go hungry and a babe is warm then it is worth it. So, I am going to get some sleep before we make the journey come morning back to Haven. I am unsure and nervous about what is to come. Wish me well.  
Hyacinth Trevelyan  
Rising with Cassandra that morning Hyacinth rushed about to pack and prepare to head to Haven. There was a promise of hot bath and fresh clothes awaiting her while the advisors all gathered and decided what she was to be doing next. She wasn’t completely confident that Cassandra was pleased with her. After all their brief trip had resulted in two weeks of foraging, killing and healing of various kinds. She’d even managed to add new people to the Inquisition. More help the better, she smiled as she shook hands with a young man and his mercenary band. Even a lyrium smuggler was adding her aid to the Inquisition.   
Walking back to Haven, Hyacinth struck up a long conversation with Solas as usual. He was something stable and familiar. He seemed to enjoy teaching her and she longed to hear of his incredible journeys into the Fade. Stories of ancient battles, mysterious spirits of Wisdom and Compassion. Every word sounded more and more fantastical to her ears. Solas looked like a young man, not a wrinkle or mar upon his soft, pale skin. The only telling feature of his age might have been the lack of hair upon his head, though that could mean a multitude of things. Without any aging marks, or wrinkles it was impossible to even hint a guess at his age. With the vast amount of knowledge, he carried she found it impossible that he was of similar age to herself. Surely, he must be older, but he couldn’t be with how he looked. She struggled as she gazed up at him, all while they walked along the road back to Haven. Listening as he spoke of his dreams near the battle of Ostagar. The fabled betrayal of the Grey Warden’s by the traitor Logain MacTier. Solas was going over the infamous failure to respond to the Grey Warden’s signal but Hyacinth couldn’t focus on the words. Fixated on his icy blue eyes, swirls of dark rust around the edges made her sigh against her better judgement.  
“Is everything alright Hyacinth? We are nearly at Haven. You should get some rest, I’m sure I have bothered and bored you enough this day,” Solas chuckled at the sound of her soft sigh.  
“Oh, I… yes, rest I should tend to myself… my needs!” she blurted, her face flushing a brilliant scarlet. Darting her eyes to the ground she cursed herself for letting her thoughts stray. They were here to help, and sure a man like him would never be interested in such a child like her. He would be far more interested in someone more like him. She fiddled with her staff and kept quiet as they marched up the last pathway towards Haven, it’s looming gates staring back at them. A familiar horn blew signalling something as a guard opened the gates and several people gathered around to take their packs and weapons for cleaning and the like. Mindlessly Hyacinth handed her items off, with her head down quickly moved to her hut.   
“Maker’s breath!” Cullen’s booming voice snapped her out of her thoughts as she slammed into his chest.  
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she fumbled about trying to right herself. His arm had come around her waist and stopped her from falling over. Looking up she caught his eyes, amber pools shimmered with flecks of gold. His expression was of genuine concern and she felt her cheeks flush warm. Quickly she scrambled to her feet and steadied herself, “I am such a fool, I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry and with my head down… I… are you alright?” she stammered out as she tried to swallow.  
“I am unharmed. Though you hit my armor hard, are you alright?” his voice was soft and his arm was still around her waist as she searched her face, carefully brushing a few loose locks out of her eyes.  
“Nothing serious, I assure you,” she smiled warmly, her eyes locked with his. For a moment she thought she saw something more than concern, “are you well? The other night, in my hut. I have not been able to forget it.”  
Cullen released his arm around her waist, his face flushing slightly as he cleared his throat, “I am alright, thank you for your concerns. I apologize, I was not myself that night. It will not happen again.”  
“Then may I check you? For peace of mind? I promise it won’t hurt. We can step into my hut for privacy if you are concerned,” she smiled warmly and extended her arm towards her hut. It was a short few meters away and she hoped he’d take her up on it.  
Feeling his head pounding he couldn’t summon the effort to decline, “if it will put you at ease then I shall accompany you.”  
Together, in silence they finished the small walk to her hut, entering quietly Hyacinth lit the fire in the hearth, “please relax. I am very gentle, and have treated many people. If you feel uncomfortable or any pain don’t be afraid to speak,” she ushered him over to the table and chairs by the window. She watched him swallow hard and close his eyes tight. It made her sad seeing him appear afraid. As she moved closer to him she decided to be as gentle as possible. Carefully she laid her palm across his cheek and slid it to his jaw. He gasped slightly and she revelled in a little giggle, “relax Commander, I know what I am doing, and you are safe.”  
This seemed to set him at ease slightly as he drew in a deep breath and his eyes relented from their tightly squeezed position. Very slowly she began with her magic, just a subtle crawl until she was working over his aches and pains.  
Relief. Slow and steady relief. Her palm was warm and welcoming on his jaw. She held it firmly but with a tenderness he’d long forgotten. Painful, throbbing aches between his eyes and shoulders began to melt away. Muscles relenting and easing into something his memories couldn’t recall. Slowly opening his eyes, he noticed hers were closed, brow furrowed into an intense focus as she poured her mana into her efforts. Musing to himself he noticed how smooth her face was. Not a single line or crease, nor any blemishes or scars to speak of. She seemed to glow with her energy, an angelic presence that washed a calm over him like he was an innocent young man once more.   
“Is that better?” she smiled, eyes still closed as she worked, “there is some damage to the muscles around your neck and shoulders. It will take a bit more but I could tend to them if you would permit me to.”  
“No, I am alright. I would not wish you to tax your energies on my account,” his voice was soft and velvety as he enjoyed the feeling of his tension being eased from him, “your magic is like none I’ve experienced before.”  
Hyacinth chuckled as she opened her eyes slowly, “I have been treating our Knight Commander for years. Lyrium damage gave him horrid headaches and severe muscle damage around his neck and shoulders from his armor. I got used to tending to people without hurting them. It isn’t fair to be in pain and then suffer the treatment,” she smiled easing back her magic slowly, “I do hope I was gentle enough. My usual patients haven’t complained in the past,” she reached up and tucked a lock behind her ear as she began to ease off her spell.   
“It is much appreciated,” Cullen smiled, only then realizing her hand was still upon his jaw, he blushed softly, “are you like this with all your patients?”   
Carefully she slid her hand from his face. He was warm and despite the clear sign of a days growth of stubble upon his checks his face was soft. It felt wonderful under her palm and she relished in the physical contact. Tears welled up in her eyes and she had to turn her head from him.  
“Are you alright? Did I offend?” Cullen jumped up from the chair, and laid a tender hand upon her shoulder, “please, forgive me if I have done something wrong, I meant no ill will.”  
Sniffling she shook her head, “they’re all dead you know,” wiping at her cheeks she slowly turned around, “I’m all that’s left. Why?”  
Uncomfortable and feeling old anxieties flare up he rubbed at the base of his neck, just to give him something to focus on, “I, cannot speak on why. Perhaps the Maker has plans that you are required in. I know it is but a cold comfort to think such ways but surely it is better than to think nothing at all,” he felt like he was speaking for himself as the words fumbled off his tongue. Words he’d heard so many times before after Kinloch Hold. “The Maker has something special for you ser, that’s why.” Words repeated in dark corners as he recovered. Words that held no meaning and then when he witnessed Kirkwall fall he felt perhaps it wasn’t so much the Maker but he himself had to take charge of his fate. To become something more, or just something. He cleared his throat, “thank you, I have not felt this good in longer than I can remember.”  
Wiping away tears from her cheeks she gave a half chuckle, “perhaps you speak the truth no one wants to hear when they feel like this,” looking up into his eyes she offered a bright smile, “please Commander, if you are in such pain again do not hesitate to seek me. Day or night, I wish to ease the suffering of others as much as I can. You must suffer greatly,” she reached up and caught herself before she touched his face, “I’m sorry that was probably inappropriate.” Blushing she quickly reached for the door, “you probably have to speak with the others. We are supposed to be setting out to Val Royeux soon.”  
Cullen groaned at the mention of Val Royeux, “yes, I suppose I should head to the war room,” quietly he stepped around her and out the door, standing in the doorway he turned to her, “thank you again. I have never been treated so gently before, it was,” he paused and flushed slightly, “pleasant. I shall take your words into consideration upon my next moment of need,” bowing slightly he turned and marched off towards the Chantry.  
Watching him walk away Hyacinth let out a long breath. The Commander was an interesting person and a pleasant reminder of simpler times but there was something more to his pain, to him. Maybe it was curiosity or maybe it was something more but she wanted to get to know him better. Something was different when she healed him, a feeling she’d never encountered before and it made her tired. Turning back to her room she saw the tub filling with water and the tray of fresh food awaiting her. A quick wave of her hand and the water was steaming away. Opting to bathe first she quickly underdressed and sunk into the clean, fresh water.   
Diary Entry from Hyacinth’s personal writing papers,  
Today I met the Commander in a most unusual way. I smashed myself off his breast plate, causing him more emotional trauma than myself physically. I could tell he was not well and offered to tend to his pain. He followed me to my hut and I set about healing his sore body. This is when things became odd and why I write this here. I could feel things, emotions and sensations that weren’t my own as I healed him. Something I have never done before. I found myself in tears shortly afterwards and used the excuse of missing my friends and family to explain it away. In earnest, I believe I was sensing something from him. Perhaps this mark upon my hand is causing issues with my magic and some odd side affect is this ability to feel my patient’s feelings. I believe I could use this to aid even better than I could before. That was until I found myself awoken by nightmares that were not my own. Blood soaked stone walls, screams and pleas for mercy and help. I have never had such thoughts or experienced such things. It was unnerving and coupled with a crushing feeling. I cannot explain how real it all felt, how terrified I was upon waking. I do not understand these dreams. Perhaps it is something to do with the healing process? Maybe memories from the mark? It couldn’t possibly be from the Commander, visions like what I witnessed would surely have driven most men insane! I shall keep this to myself till I have a chance to study it further. I will record any further dreams and their contents and what kind of healing magic I used before hand. This is all so strange, yet I can’t help but feel it will make things better for those in need of my aid. What better way to truly heal someone, then to share in their pain? To help walk them back through the process and let them release the hurt? Yes, once I figure out how this is happening and why, I shall endeavour to use it for good! Maybe, just maybe I am what is needed right now. Good night, pray this dream was only a one-time dream. It was most distressing!

A written parchment tucked into a book under Commander Cullen’s bed,  
I have not written down my thoughts of feelings since Kirkwall but in this early morning hour, before the Herald and her team leave for Val Royeux, I find myself needing to put words and thoughts to paper. I slept last night for the first time since I decided to stop taking lyrium through the night. Not only slept but dreamt of pleasant things. These things seemed familiar but strange all at once. I was in the Circle library but it was not a Circle I had seen. I was reading a tome, one I had never read before on healing potions and herbal botany. Yet each word seemed as familiar to me as my sword when I wake. There were others in robes, I can only presume they were mages. I was laughing with a voice that was not my own. Then before I could catch sight of myself or hear my name muttered I woke. Woke to the wonderful, soothing sounds of the birds above the Chantry singing their praises. I do not know what this means but it was a blessing to have at least one night in the last half year of peace. It has given me resolve to continue to hope that one day this may be my normal existence. Till then, I cherish this one night. Perhaps I shall seek Lady Trevelyan’s help again some time soon.


	4. Walking Among the Lilies

After walking for three days they arrived at Val Royeux. It’s magnificent white and gold spires, fabric of blazon red draped with extreme care fluttered softly against the breeze off the tops of shops and unmarked buildings. Hyacinth was in awe of the opulence surrounding her. Gold cast statues of rulers past and of the blessed Andraste lined the long corridor leading into the heart of Val Royeux’s market. Struck by the scenery and smells of fresh breads and candied goods she didn’t see the Inquisition scout coming towards them.  
“Seeker Cassandra, Sister Leliana sent me ahead to get word on the events here. I have grave news!” the scout huffed and puffed as she struggled to catch her breath, “the remaining clerics have gathered and sent word to the remaining loyal Templars. They’re afraid ma’am, looking for protection from the Inquisition and they’re hoping the Templars will straighten things out.”  
“Us! Afraid of us!” Cassandra’s voice was almost shrill as her cheeks flushed red and the vein popped out of her forehead.   
“Calm yourself Seeker, Bubbles here will have them seeing the light soon enough,” Varric chuckled as he patted Hyacinth on the back, “don’t worry kid, we’ve got your back.”  
Hyacinth was confused at what was going on. As she looked back between Cassandra and the scout she was tugged along by Varric and Solas. Walking through the corridor, it’s edges lined with hand crafted, golden sculptures she couldn’t help but wonder what she was going to say. Exiting the long corridor, they came to a large opening with a massive water fountain in the center. Golden lions and lion head statues surrounded the water feature with gleaming brass plaques etched with words she couldn’t quite make out. A wall of buildings and shops skirted the area about them, gallows to the left of the fountain made her nervous. Coming around the gallows, a large crowd of people were gathered, listening to a woman in Chantry robes preach upon a short wooden stage. Following the swell of people, she carefully pushed her way to the front, Cassandra half dragging her along.  
“Our Divine, our Most Holy is dead. In her naive and beautiful heart, she had dreamed of a lasting peace between mages. Her dreams were dashed and our hearts ache,” the crowd roared around her at the clerics words. Clearly the people were suffering the loss of such an integral leader. Seeing Hyacinth and Cassandra in the crowd the cleric turned to face them, a slow grin coming across her face, “and who is responsible for this travesty? Who is the one who took away our most beloved Divine Justinia? Why there she is now!” at the apex of her questioning she thrust her finger out at Hyacinth.  
Cassandras hand laid firmly across Hyacinth’s back, keeping her steady. Feeling that reaffirming touch Hyacinth drew in a deep breath as the crowd turned to face her, “I did no such thing! Please, the Breach threatens all Thedas and we need assistance in aiding those affected and sealing it permanently. We need to work together!” Her words flowed out of her full of passion so sincere there was no mistaking her intentions were true. Cassandra dropped her hand from Hyacinth’s back as she took a strong step forward, “she speaks the truth! The Inquisition is here to lend aid, stop this pointless fighting and find the truth culprit so that justice may be served!”   
For a moment, it appeared as if their words had reached the cleric when the sound of heavy plate boots marching in unison filled the courtyard, “it’s too late. The Templars have returned to the Chantry and will see to your heresy!” she motioned towards a tall, pale man in full plate mail the emblem of the Templar Order embossed into his chest. His silver shoulder length hair was tied half up and his icy blue eyes tracked Hyacinth as he calmly walked passed the cleric without acknowledging her. Uttering a huff of frustration, she tried to gain his attention and was greeted with a punch to the base of her neck by another man dressed in similarly decorated robes.  
“Why?!” Hyacinth blurted out as she watched the cleric fall unconscious to the ground, “can we not speak like rational people?”  
“Lord Seeker Lucius!” Cassandra yelled at the man as he continued to walk a few steps beside the fallen cleric.  
“The Templars have not returned to the Chantry!” he bellowed ignoring both Hyacinth and Cassandra, “the Chantry is beneath us. When the Templars left to answer the highest calling to purge the mages the Chantry abandoned us. We will have our due,” turning to Cassandra he snorted, “and you, Cassandra. I will not answer questions from one who walked away from us. You have risen this, puppet as figure head to your misguided cause. You have shown me nothing and your Inquisition less than nothing,” puffing his chest up he turned to his men and shouted, “Templars we move to better places, to answer a higher calling!”  
“Please,” Hyacinth raised her hand, “one of your own joined us. Knight Commander Cullen organizes our armies, please you are welcome within the Inquisition,” her voice was pleading as she scanned the crowed, seeing several younger members questioning faces.  
Laughing Lord Seeker Lucius snarled back to the men, “move out!” as he marched them out of the courtyard.  
“Pleasant fellow,” Varric chuckled as he crossed his arms, “guess we’re not getting any help from the Templars.”  
Cassandra stood dumbfounded as she watched the last Templar disappear, “I need to get word back to the others.”   
A parchment letter bearing the insignia of the Inquisition:  
We arrived in Val Royeux and interrupted a cleric rallying the crowd against the Inquisition only to be interrupted ourselves by the remaining Templar Order and Lord Seeker Lucius. Utter chaos ensued and I am unsure how to word what occurred next. Lord Seeker Lucius has chosen to take the Order away from the Chantry and publicly made his point that the Order will no longer bow to the Chantry. His Knight Captain punched the cleric in the back of the head upon her little stage, in front of a large crowd. Many were in shock and once we dealt with the situation Hyacinth stayed with the cleric and healed her. It was very interesting to see the two interact. Even though the cleric wished for Hyacinth to not exist it did not stop her from tending to her with such incredible gentleness and kindness.   
Once we were finished with the cleric we encountered three individuals. A messenger requesting the presence of Hyacinth at a ball, a Madame De Fer. I am sure Josephine will know who this person is and what course to take. Another individual gave us information of someone looking to cause harm to the Inquisition. We are set to go to this location after I send this missive. Our last person was Grand Enchanter Fiona herself. Shockingly she has seen reason and wishes to aid the Inquisition. She wants us to meet her in Redcliffe to discuss plans to close the Breach. With Lord Seeker Lucius acting strangely and our need to seal the rift a high priority, I recommend a trip to Redcliffe shortly upon our return.   
We shall attend to this individual seeking to cause harm, then make our way to the inn. I shall send word once we have further information on this situation. Leliana please make use of the names from Mother Gisele, see what kind of aid they are willing to provide. Hyacinth’s actions with the cleric may prove useful as many saw her kindness and may be eager to lend aid. Commander be prepared for new recruits. We shall speak soon.  
Cassandra Pentaghast   
Diary page of Hyacinth Trevelyan:  
It has been a completely draining and very awkward trip to Val Royeux. The crown jewel of Orlais was as beautiful as the stories in the books I’d read. If only I could have spent time seeing all the shops and wonders it had to offer. Instead I was subject to a most strange encounter with the leader of the Templar Order. I am unsure how to take it. Cassandra assured me this is not how the man usually acts and if that is true he may have been under the effects of something. He did look incredibly pale, more so than I’d ever seen before. It is all for nothing as he walked away from his duties to the Chantry. I tended to the needs of the cleric. As my magic flowed and healed her head I was filled with fear, concern and confusion. These were not my feelings, and in knowing that I believe I was able to speak to her better and calm her with my words. I met with the Grand Enchanter and I hope she is sincere in her words with wanting to lend aid. From there we rested for the night.   
The next day I was picked up in a coach and brought to a private estate a couple hours from Val Royeux. Once there I was carefully ushered inside. Several people in fine wears came to speak with me and I was more than pleased to answer their questions about the Inquisition. Until I was accosted by a rude man who would not hear reason. Before he could escalate the situation further he was frozen in his place. A woman in a beautiful white and silver robe came down a set of stairs and had him apologize before sending him away. She was Madame De Fer! She wanted to join the Inquisition and lend her aid. Cassandra told me if such a thing were to occur that I was not to turn anyone away, so I followed her words and welcomed her to our cause. I left rather soon after and was returned in the coach I was brought in. Updating Cassandra, she was very pleased with the newest addition to our cause. I arrived just in time as we set out to investigate the information provided to us. That was rather confusing. Someone called a ‘Red Jenny’ sent us clues to follow which led us to find a plot against the Inquisition. Heading to the night time meeting we were attacked by a small group of mercenaries and then a mage! I managed to move out of the way just in time as the fireball harmlessly flew past me. He went on some horrible rant, right out of a cheap penny novel before a young elven girl with a bow came out from around a corner. She shot him in the mouth with an arrow! It was rather impressive and quick. Afterwards we were attacked by his reinforcements. When the dust settled the elven woman offered her aid and despite her odd and flippant behavior she wished to join the Inquisition. Following Cassandra’s word, I welcomed her to the cause.   
We are resting at an inn tonight and shall return to Haven before mid afternoon tomorrow. From there I am guessing I will be heading back out to the Hinterlands and on to Redcliffe village to speak with Grand Enchanter Fiona. I know there will be more to it than that, it seems to be the way things are going.   
I have one last thing to mention before I close my writings. My dreams the night I healed the cleric were the same as before. Dreams of things I have never witnessed or done. Taking vows before the Maker with my sisters and brothers near me. It was heartwarming and sentimental but not my own. I believe it now that perhaps I am sharing their life experiences with them when I use my magic. This makes me wonder if the first dreams I had were of Cullen’s past or the mark’s origins. I am unsure and it is unsettling. Solas claims he can assist me in finding out but only once the Breach is sealed correctly. He claims the Breach’s presence may have something to do with the experience. I am scared but he has put my mind at ease for the moment. He was kind and offered me assurance that he was watching out for my well being. He is too kind to me, and I cannot put into words my appreciation. I shall write again once I know more of what we are expecting. I hope I am becoming the Herald they need, for the sake of the people. Maker help me - HT  
Upon returning to Haven, Hyacinth returned to her hut. This time more aware of her surroundings she didn’t collide with anyone. Entering her hut, she placed her writing supplies and papers on her desk and immediately went for a bath.   
Cassandra quickly marched up the steps of the Chantry and waltzed straight into the war room. Several pieces of parchment lay upon the table awaiting her perusal. She barely noticed Cullen sitting in the large chair, “welcome back, Cassandra,” he smiled up at her, his face pale and eyes sunken. Slowly he rose, bracing himself upon the table, “once you have read our reports, we can discuss our next steps.”  
“Cullen, you look unwell, perhaps you should see Hyacinth. Her healing skills are quite impressive. Have you spoken to anyone about your situation?” she casually swept up the stack of papers into her arms and held the door wide for Cullen.  
“No, my decisions are my own, Seeker,” he gripped his forehead tightly, “I will see this through.”  
Snorting softly Cassandra nodded, “I believe you can do this Commander. I have believed it since I met you in Kirkwall. You give yourself so little credit,” she left out a disgusted noise, “see a healer and get some relief. I shall check on you later. I will be in my room, reading over these pages if you have need of me,” before he could retort she paced off down the hall.  
Aching, shifting pain swelled and reverberated through his skull, causing his vision to blur and his sense of balance to falter. Growling low in his chest he steadied himself, standing tall and firm, achieving all the signs of a stable Commander before he marched out of the Chantry. Resting heavily on the hilt of his sword upon his hip, he tried to maintain his outward appearance as he casually made his way toward Hyacinth’s hut. Her healing had made such an impact on him, his well being and health. He could eat without feeling sick, managed to get a few nights of rest before the nightmares flared up again and his headaches had ceased for a brief period. Now it was all back, with brutal vengeance. Swallowing his pride, he reached her door and knock, “Lady Trevelyan, I… uh…” he tried to find the words but admitting he required any assistance was difficult, “are you busy?”  
Lifting her head from her writing she carefully set her quill down and headed towards the door, “Commander Cullen?” opening the door a slight crack she caught sight of him. Face blanched white and sickly, sweat beading up about his temples and his eyes seemed cloud, “Maker! Please come in!” she threw the door wide and reached for him, to help pull him inside.  
Unable to truly put up a fight and continue his show he allowed her to help gently tug him over to the small chair again. Sitting with a loud thump he exhaled long and hard, “I… it’s just a headache but it is rather enough I suppose.”  
Hyacinth quirked up an eyebrow before she started, “Commander, are you getting enough sleep? Eating proper meals? Maker have you had a chance to properly soak and bathe?” she grabbed a clothe from her bag hanging off the back of her chair and began dabbing his forehead, “Maker you are burning up!”  
“I… I rest when I can, eat when I remember,” he let out a forced chuckle as she glared at him, “I can assure you I bathe, regularly enough.”  
Groaning heavily Hyacinth rinsed the cloth in the basin on her desk. Half stomping her feet as she walked back to his side she dabbed at his hair line, around his lips and finally laid the clothe upon the base of his neck, “that is not good enough Commander!” she was upset, more upset than she should have been and even she couldn’t explain why, “once I am finished with you, eat! Then rest, for the whole night, no interruptions!” Tenderly she held his jaw in both hands, carefully drawing them back till her finger tips touched through the hair behind his head. With her eyes closed she focused and began healing him. Emotions began to fill her as set about releasing the tension from overworked muscles, repairing tears in muscle, over stretched tendons and strained ligaments. Embarrassment and shame. Something she clearly knew weren’t her feelings. Willing herself to ignore the feelings she began easing his headache, “do you care nothing for yourself?”  
Cullen choked on the words, reaching up he snatched both of her wrists with his hands, “I tend to myself as best as I can,” his tone was curt and clearly, she had struck a nerve.  
“Not good enough. Now let me go!” she struggled against his grip. He wasn’t applying harsh pressures but she knew well enough by his force there was nothing she could do to release herself. Staring him down she glared, “you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You require the same care and attention as anyone else! You have nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed for! I only wish to help! Release me!”  
Cullen blinked a few times, unsure of what to say before he finally released her wrists, “I shall bid you good night, Lady Trevelyan. Thank you for your aid,” he stood sharply nearly knocking her back, and turned for the door.  
“You… you… you stupid, self-loathing bastard!” she spat at him as he walked out the door. Her fists coiled up tightly as she glared at the door. What in the void was going on? Not wanting to bump into him, she opted not to leave her hut for the night. Needing to blow off some steam she returned to her diary and began furiously writing away.  
Cullen stormed back towards the Chantry, cursing under his breath as his heart raced in his chest. “Move,” he barked to a couple soldier standing in front of the Chantry doors. Pacing down the hall he slammed the war room door open, “who in the Void does she think she is!?”  
Cassandra calmly gazed up from her papers, “I see your trip to our dear healer went well,” shaking her head she resumed her reading.  
“If I had wished to be chastised and treated like a young boy in the larder I could have ran into Roderick,” grunting he slammed his hand down on the table, “she is infuriating!”  
Chuckling Cassandra placed her papers to the side, “she has begun to grow up and mature. She is serious about lending aid, healing and helping those in need. Perhaps you should look at it less as an insult to your manly pride and more as an act of caring and compassion. Compassion from a mage to an old Templar,” she tented her fingers and grinned as she watched his cheeks flush red, “calm yourself. Her intentions are good, can you not see some of the wisdom she speaks? You do not tend to yourself as much as you should. I am told you missed dinner twice and forgot lunch several times while we were away. You will be of no use to the men if you do not keep up your health Commander.”  
Drawing in a deep breath Cullen calmed himself and nodded, “perhaps I have been too hard on myself. Maker,” he sighed rubbing his hands down his face, “should I speak to her? I have been a fool, working myself too hard. My nights are… unpleasant.”  
Cassandra nodded, “my friend, things will not come easy any time soon. I believe in you, I have faith that you will come through this,” she reached across the table and patted his hand, “come, let’s gather Leliana and Josephine. I have finished the papers and wish to discuss our next move.”  
A page from the personal entries of Commander Cullen:  
Again, I find myself needing to release my inner thoughts upon paper. Tonight, I made a terrible mistake with Lady Trevelyan. My stubbornness caused me to quarrel with her, despite her being correct. Cassandra set me straight and assisted in calming my nerves. Once we finished speaking our council gathered to discuss plans. This quickly melted down into a near shouting match as not everyone agreed in which direction we should focus our efforts. Cassandra came up with the idea to invite Lady Trevelyan into the meeting. We laid out options, best we could and Lady Trevelyan saw fit to travel to Redcliffe to speak with Grand Enchanter Fiona. To say I was unhappy would be too kind. With the Breach above and the veil thin I fear the risk of possessions and abominations are high. To bring a mass of untrained, unrestricted mages so close endangers all. Lady Trevelyan would not hear me and refused to look at me throughout our meeting. I fear I may have gotten off on the wrong foot with her. I tried to speak with her afterwards but she quickly vanished out the Chantry doors and into the usual bustle of evenings outside.   
I spoke privately with Ambassador Montilyet and asked her what recourse I could take to appropriately convey my deepest regrets. She simply chuckled and said she would see to the matter herself. I have no idea what this may entail but I have faith it is in good hands. Come morning their small group will set off towards Redcliffe and I can only hope things progress well, despite my feelings and concerns. Leliana spoke to me on the training yard afterwards, she said she spoke to Lady Trevelyan about a potential lead. She is concerned the Grey Wardens have disappeared without word and her attempts to find any clue to their whereabouts has been fruitless. It is unlike her to not be able to obtain that which she seeks and a small sparring session helped relieve her stresses. I am concerned for her well being since the death of the Divine, but I digress from my original point. She has some information about a Warden in the Hinterlands and since Lady Trevelyan is heading that way she’s requested that she seek out this Warden. Perhaps they may have information about the Divine’s death or none at all. I am unclear as to what motive the Grey Wardens would have with such things. They are an order bent on protecting against the Blight and darkspawn, not tinkering in politics.   
At any rate, I do not know what yet to make of our Herald. She is a strong willed, quick witted woman, but she is still immature in the ways of the world. No thanks to the Circle and its methods. I do hope I can mend what I have so sorely spoiled. Perhaps once she returns I can speak with her and sooth over this error. - CR  
Hyacinth huffed loudly as they walked along the dirt and grassy path towards the Hinterlands, having only left Haven but an hour prior. Solas pricked his ear up, “is there something the matter Hyacinth?”  
“I have a question,” she nibbled on her lip as she twisted her gloved finger tips, “say you knew someone was hurting. Knew things about them they hadn’t shared willingly about themselves. Say this information is painful and very private, but you wished to help. How would you go about doing so? Without causing the other person undo harm or stress.”  
Cassandra arched her eyebrow as she listened intently to Solas, “you speak of a friend or passing acquaintance? I can assume this is not a dear friend or they would have informed you of the information you hold secret,” he casually stroked his chin as he mused, “it is a hard place to lay. Especially when one wants to lend aid.”  
“Ah, get them drunk. A couple ales, a game of Wicked Grace and they’ll be singing their problems to you,” Varric chuckled as he sauntered along, “works every time.”  
Cassandra let out a disgusted noise as she rolled her eyes, “not everyone seeks forgiveness at the bottom of a bottle, Varric.”  
Hyacinth struggled to come up with any ideas as Solas drew in closer, “Hyacinth, you know this person’s pain. From your healings, yes?” he spoke quietly to her as they walked, “it may not be wise to tell this person you have seen their memories. It may cause them to be upset, or enraged at the invasion into their privacy. No matter how incidental it was. Allow me some time to study this and see if there is something more to it,” he patted her warmly on the back and smiled, “with the Breach still lingering, it’s magic could be distorting your own. We will sort this through once the Breach is properly and completely seal.”  
It was a quiet journey beyond playful banter as her mind wandered to the terrifying nightmares she’d seen. Once more after healing Commander Cullen she’d suffered with terrible visions of blood, gore and twisted bodies upon slick stone floors. The eerie and panicking feeling of being held down, forced to witness and endure the horrors around her had her waking covered in a thin layer of cold sweat. She knew now what she had witnessed the first night was something of Cullen’s past. Something unspeakable. What part did he play in those horrors? What happened? These things filled her thoughts as they travelled. Between Varric’s constant harassment of Cassandra, Solas’s wit and teachings she was busy enough. By the time they reached the Hinterlands she was confident Cassandra and Varric were secretly married. Surely no one but old married couples argued and fussed over each other so much.   
“Leliana’s reports claimed the sighting of a Warden just over this way,” Cassandra waved for everyone to follow, breaking Hyacinth of her thoughts. Moving over the sloping ridge they looked down the lush green embankment towards a small pond. A large waterfall bringing constant fresh water down made it a decent post to fish and set up life. An idea she could see someone shared. In the distance before them stood a solitary log cabin, a drying rack and laundry line hanging the spans of two large trees. Smoke lazily billowed out of the chimney, as they drew closer they could hear someone giving a rousing speech.  
“Conscripts, when they come, shields at the ready. Swords held tight, arms loose. They took from you and they will not take again this day,” a burly man with chocolate brown, shoulder length hair was marching back and forth to a small group of scared fishermen wielding weapons. Catching movement out of the corner of his eye he turned to face Hyacinth, “what are you doing here?” Before Hyacinth could answer he raised his shield, a loud thump rung through her ear as an arrow struck and embedded into the wood, “no time for that. Speak after. Either help or get out of the way, we’re dealing with these idiots first,” turning to the terrified fishermen he raised his sword, “conscripts, defend!”  
Rushing forward he joined his group, Cassandra and Varric drew weapons and lent add as Hyacinth and Solas hung back providing support. It wasn’t a long bought, clearly the attackers where nothing more than unseasoned highwaymen, bent on stealing from what they garnered were easy targets in the fishermen, “good work conscripts. You’ve paid your due, go home,” he bellowed out after the last highwayman fell. Looking over at Hyacinth he scanned her over, “you aren’t one of them, and you sure don’t look like villagers to me. Who are you? What do you want?”  
“I was told there was a Grey Warden out here. Am I correct?” she tried to stand firm, but the man’s gaze was harsh and strong.  
“Aye, names Warden Blackwall. Though I don’t know you or what you’re doing out here. Since I’ve given you my name perhaps you may share yours,” he sheathed his sword and hooked his shield over his shoulder as he folded his arms across his chest, awaiting her answer.  
Clearing her throat slightly she stood a bit taller, “Lady Trevelyan. I am with the Inquisition. Pleasure to meet you,” she extended her hand and smiled softly.  
Chuckling he reached out and gave her hand a firm squeeze, “well met my lady. Now what can an old Warden do for you?”  
“There are reports of Grey Wardens disappearing through out Orlais. We simply seek to know why. With the Divine’s death at the Conclave it is mysterious timing to say the least,” she held firm just as Leliana taught her to. Watching his eyes and face for any signs that might tell her more.  
Frowning he shook his head, “I’ve been on a recruitment trip for the past several months and have not caught word of anything. I’m sorry. Though if you are implying the Warden’s had something to do with the Divine’s death I think you are wrong. We Grey Warden’s do not engage in the politics of other nations, or parties.” He remained unchanged as he watched her with equal judgement.  
Letting a little huff out she nodded, “thank you for your honesty Warden Blackwall. We must be going, good day,” she turned to leave when he reached out and snatched her arm.  
“The Inquisition you said. I have heard of you in these parts. If you are looking to make things right then I would humbly request to join, if you’ll have me,” his steely grey eyes locked with Hyacinth’s as he stood, arms crossed tightly over his large chest.   
“Won’t that interfere with Warden business?” Hyacinth said as she turned to face him fully. He remained unmoved, as stoic as a mighty oak as she scanned him over. Grey flecks in his beard told of his age, shocks of blanched hair kissed his temples and she was sure the crow’s feet around his eyes danced as she gazed into them.  
“I am supposed to be out recruiting and not due back for some months. Your cause is just, perhaps a Warden can be of aid. In a past life I had experience with the army. Maybe I can aid in training your men,” he spoke calmly and waited her reply.  
Chuckling she nodded, “I’ve seen you fight here today, perhaps you will give the Commander something to focus on,” turning back to Cassandra she watched her nod, “you are more than welcome within the Inquisition. We are heading to Redcliffe currently to meet with Grand Enchanter Fiona. If you wish to join us by all means come along, or you may make way to Haven. The option is yours, Ser Blackwall.”  
Chuckling Blackwall relaxed his stance and nodded, “it would be my pleasure to travel with you and your companions, my lady,” he bowed at the waist and gave her a brilliant smile.  
Hyacinth blushed and let out a soft giggle before Cassandra tugged on her arm, “right, yes, this way,” she stumbled, half tripping over her feet as she turned to follow Cassandra towards Redcliffe. It wasn’t a long trip to the bustling village of Redcliffe and Hyacinth enjoyed sitting back and listening to Blackwall and Cassandra discuss everything from swords to tactics. His voice was deeper than Cullen’s and had a distinctly different sound. The accent reminded her of some of the people in the Circle, those from the Marches. Blackwall seemed like a polite gentleman with extensive knowledge in weapons and techniques. She remembered reading many tales of the Grey Wardens during her time in the Circle. Heroes saving the world against blighted creatures, gliding in on the wings of griffins. The stuff of legends, and now she was walking behind one. There were so many things she wanted to ask him, so many questions about their order, she felt like a young girl again. Half skipping along the road Varric squeezed her arm, “yes?” she practically sung as she looked down at him.  
“You seem in a good mood. Excited about recruiting Hero over there,” he nodded towards Blackwall, a large smile spread wide across his lips.   
“Hero? I... uh… it’s childish really,” she laughed as she fidgeted with her staff, “I’ve read so many stories of the Grey Wardens. You could say I am in awe of being in the presence of such a man.”  
Varric seemed to delight in her statement as he chuckled loudly, “careful Bumbles, that’s how romance novels are written.”  
Hyacinth blushed as she tried to walk calmly behind Cassandra and Blackwall. Gladly the bright red stretched canvas blades of the Redcliffe wind mill rose into view, “this must be Redcliffe,” Hyacinth pointed over towards a large stone wall.   
“Yes, we are coming up towards the city gates,” Cassandra quickly reached for her sword and shield, “rift! Demons!”  
Before the guard at the gate could draw her sword the rift before them burst open and demons began pouring out. Hyacinth watched with intrigue as something strange occurred. Demons seemed to pour forth for a moment then briefly revert to their original position of only a few seconds earlier. Pushing forward with her group she laid out barriers when demons went to strike. Blackwall’s sword skill was remarkable as he quickly felled several demons with little effort. Getting closer to the Breach she raised her marked hand and began sealing the rift.   
“Did you see that? That rift acted very strangely,” Cassandra quipped as she sheathed her sword, the rift closing and the demons defeated.   
Hyacinth thought about it as the guard raced up to them and thanked them before hastily throwing open the gate. Continuing their walk through the gates and towards the city Hyacinth looked around. Each side of her stood looming walls of earth tall as ancient oaks for several yards before the tree line broke and she was able to fully see the wind mill.   
As they progressed down the cobble stone path she saw a bridge spanning over a waterfall and a large stone and mortar stair way carved into the side of the cliff leading down into the heart of the village. Buildings and budding port lay before her. She had travelled so quickly to reach the Conclave and in utter fear everywhere they stopped was a blur. Here she could see everything. Brilliant scarlet sails on the ships docked at the port fluttered gently in the soft breeze. Women hanging their washing in the warm, sunny afternoon greeted them with smiles and giggling chatter. As they came down the steps into the village itself Hyacinth let out a soft sigh seeing a giant bronze statue of a griffin mounted atop a slab of brilliant white marble, “what is that?” she breathlessly pointed.  
“That is a statue honoring the Hero of Fereldan. She and her companions saved Redcliffe from the young Arl’s demon possessed son. She managed to save both the young child and the Arl himself. Arl Eamon in his infinite wisdom gave his land to his brother Teagan. He in turn had the statue erected a couple years after the end of the blight,” Cassandra beamed as she spoke, “she is an amazing woman.”  
Hyacinth was in awe and missed the Inquisition scout rushing towards them, “Seeker Cassandra!” the scout placed her clenched fist against her chest as she bowed her head, “I have news for you.”  
“Speak quickly, we must find Grand Enchanter Fiona,” Cassandra huffed, slightly irritated.  
“That’s what I come to speak with you about Seeker. I have been to the mages, and they claim there was no arrangement to speak with the Herald or the Inquisition. No one knew we were coming at all,” she stood tall and clasped her hands behind her back, “something isn’t right here my lady.”  
Furrowing her brow as she looked around Cassandra groaned, “where can we find the Grand Enchanter? We must speak to her about this, immediately.”  
Pointing towards the back of the village she nodded, “go that way, up the small steps towards a large building. Tavern’s name is The Gull and Lantern. I have one more piece of information before you go. It seems the Grand Enchanter has signed off the mages to a Tevinter Magister. Goes by the name Gereon Alexius. “  
“A magister!” Hyacinth practically shrieked as she turned to Cassandra, “has the Grand Enchanter lost her mind!”  
“We shall soon she,” Cassandra gritted her teeth as she nodded to the scout, “send word to Leliana of what you know. Soon as we have words with Fiona, I will send further information. Go,” she waved her hand before curtly marching towards the tavern.   
Reaching the door to the tavern without further incident Cassandra shook her head, “we shall see what becomes of this. I do not like where this may lead us.”


	5. Every Rose Has it's Thorns

Taking in a deep breath Hyacinth followed closely behind Cassandra as they walked through the creaky old wooden door. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dark room, windows seemingly closed and hushed whispers greeting them. Cautiously walking forward Hyacinth caught movement at the back of the crowed tavern. Hunter green robes with feather trim stepped out from a shaded corner, the woman wearing them looking genuinely surprised as she moved towards them, “Grand Enchanter,” Hyacinth nodded as she moved to greet her, “we are with the Inquisition. You met us at Val Royeux and we are here to discuss your aid to seal the Breach.”  
The smaller woman, shook her head, raven, short hair shifting against the motion, “I believe you are mistaken. I have not been to Val Royeux in months.”  
Cassandra snorted, “we saw you there. You spoke of a potential alliance to seal the Breach. Is this some joke?”  
Fiona blinked rapidly as she gripped her head, “I… I feel strange. I cannot remember,” collecting herself, she let out a sigh, “it isn’t important. We, all mages of Redcliffe are now indentured servants to the Magister Alexius. I can no longer bargain for any aid, I apologize.”  
“You daft fool,” Blackwall spat as he crossed his arms, Solas shaking his head in frustration along with him.   
Before anyone could add anything further the door swung wide and in walked a stout man in strange robes. Spikey cut fabrics with silver studded edges were out of place fashions in Fereldan’s more fur and hide based peoples. It didn’t take much for Hyacinth to draw the conclusion this man was from Tevinter. Watching him walk towards them she felt an eerie presence wash over her. Something was clearly not right with this man, something menacing about his face.  
“Good afternoon my friends!” he spoke warmly as he opened his arms wide and grinned upon the crowd, “to what honor do we greet the Inquisition and you,” he tilted his head toward Hyacinth, “are you the one that fell out of the Fade? The Herald of blessed Andraste herself, yes?”   
Clearing her throat, she calmly nodded, “yes, to whom do I speak? You have me at quite the disadvantage.”   
Letting out a hearty laugh the man bowed deeply at the waist, “Magister Gereon Alexius of the Tevinter Imperium, at your service. How may I assist you this fine day?”  
Hyacinth felt slimy when he spoke, “I require the aid of the mages in sealing the Breach in the sky. Perhaps there is something we can work out to best serve Thedas.”  
He grinned wide as he waved her over to a table, “let us speak then. Come, sit, Felix could you get us a scribe please,” stopping for a moment before sitting down, he waved his hand over towards a tall young man, “this is my son Felix. Felix this is the fabled Herald we’ve heard so much of.”  
Felix nodded and smiled weakly as he walked over. Hyacinth saw his legs wobble and she quickly reacted catching the man as he slumped forward, “I have you!” she grunted as she helped right him.   
“Felix!” Alexius rose quickly turning to aid his son, “you are ill, we need your powders! Herald, we shall have to speak another time, my son needs me. Fiona, I shall require your aid back at the Castle!” he quickly pulled his son’s arm up over his shoulder and carefully cradled him into the back rooms of the tavern.   
Hyacinth felt the sharp edge of paper upon her palm and as the father and son disappeared out of sight she reached down into her hand. Unfolding the small paper, she read it out loud to her companions, “you are in grave danger, meet me in the Chantry.”  
“Well if that doesn’t scream trap, I don’t know what does,” Varric snickered as he shook his head.  
“Oh, it definitely is a trap, but we must be sure,” Blackwall laid a careful hand upon her shoulder, “my lady, we are with you.”  
Hyacinth nodded, “perhaps we shall have some answers. Cassandra, what do you think?”  
“I believe we must go to be sure. There is certainly something more going on here. Either way I am not apt to walk away with a Tevinter Magister in control of so many mages,” she grunted leading her way towards the door, “come I know where the Chantry is.”  
Following closely behind Cassandra they cut across a small backyard and towards the large Chantry building. As they approached they could hear sounds of fighting emitting from within, “hurry, open it!” Hyacinth cried as they pushed to open the door.  
Within the large cathedral ceilings of the Chantry a vibrant green pulsing rift glowed at the head of the pulpit. Hyacinth let out a gasp as she witnessed a dark-skinned man wielding a staff, smash a demon over the head before beating another one with the end into the ground. Hearing the door open he turned to her, “I could use a little help here. This rift needs to be sealed, quickly please.” Racing forward she quickly tried to light a demon on fire. Focusing intently, she was surprised as an egg sized ball of fire burst from her hand and flew towards it target. Upon hitting the demon, it burst brightly, lava and flames circled and engulfing it causing it to squeal loudly. Without wasting any time, she reached out and began sealing the rift.   
“Wonderful timing!” the man giggled as he straightened his well groomed ebony hair, “do you actually know how to use that? No? You just wiggle your little fingers and poof, rift sealed,” he chuckled warmly as he stood brushing himself off.  
“I beg your pardon?” Hyacinth gave him a confused look as she scanned the room, “I was told to meet someone here, something about being in ‘grave danger’?”  
“Ah yes, our intrepid Felix. He should have been here by now. Allow me to fill you in before he arrives. I am Dorian Pavus of Minrathous, and I am here to save your life,” he bowed regally, extending his arm to the side in a show of grace.  
Hyacinth clutched her mouth as she let out a snorting giggle, “you’re very fancy. How are you here to save my life? Why am I in danger?”  
“Ah, wonderful questions my dear. Let me explain from the beginning. I was the apprentice of one Gereon Alexius. Studying and working on new magical prospects. We discovered a way to alter time. You may have seen it with this rift. How the demons seemed to stall and then revert and move forward. He is using this experimental magic coupled with the rifts, but to what end I do not know. I know he used it to bring you here. It’s clear you are in his sights but why, now that I do not know,” he rubbed his moustache between his fingers, curling it upwards neatly.  
“I have that answer,” Felix appeared from the shadows, “sorry I didn’t arrive sooner Dorian. Father fuses so,” he sighed, walking closer to the group, “everything Dorian has told you is accurate. The reason is due to a cult my father has become involved with. They call themselves the Venatori, and they are dead set on you,” he turned to face Hyacinth, “something about an Elder One and his plans for a revived Tevinter Imperium. My father has pledged allegiance to him, to ‘cure me’,” he groaned.  
“An Elder One, time magic, Venatori, this is all a bit much to take on simply your word,” Cassandra snorted from behind Hyacinth, “why do they want the Herald?”  
“I honestly do not know,” Felix sighed, “but they intend to do something with these mages, and I can tell you it is not something good.”  
Hyacinth shook her head, “what do we do? What do I do?” she was beginning to panic. Up until now all she was to the Inquisition was a public relations idol to garner aid for the people of Thedas. Now a cult may be out to kill her. She felt the energy leave her as she took in several breaths.  
“My lady,” Blackwall carefully reached out and touched her shoulder, “you are safe with us, you have my word.”  
“Ah yes! Now that you know there is a trap, you may yet use it to your advantage,” Dorian clapped his hands together and rubbed them, “yes, we can turn this around and stop Alexius and his Venatori. Free your Southern mages and make the world right again, yes?”  
“I need to go Dorian, aid the Herald and her people best as you can. If I am gone much longer father might suspect something,” he bowed his head to Hyacinth and turn, “he will call on you soon. Be ready,” Felix quickly disappeared back through the dark corners of the chapel.  
“What is wrong with Felix? Is there anything I can do?” Hyacinth turned to Dorian, watching as his hazel eyes lowered.   
“Felix was attacked by darkspawn some years back. He fell sick with the taint. Alexius felt guilty that he wasn’t there for him. His wife died during the attack and he’s blamed himself for Felix ever since. I helped him create a treatment but the reality is, Felix is dying and nothing will change that,” Dorian let out a long sigh, “I can’t stay here much longer either. Alexius doesn’t know I’m here and I’d like to keep it that way.”  
“Go to Haven. You will be welcome there as a guest of the Inquisition. That should keep you safe,” Hyacinth smiled brightly as she tried to think of what she could possible do.  
“I shall see you there then. I would openly travel with you but I do tend to stand out in a crowd. Be safe, Herald of Andraste, we know so precious little of this Venatori or their leader,” turning he pulled a hood over his head and disappeared out the back entrance of the Chantry.  
“We must return to Haven,” Cassandra sighed rubbing her nose bridge between her finger tips.  
“Agreed, we must see the Herald to safety,” Blackwall smiled back at Hyacinth.  
It was all a blur as they marched as quickly as their feet would carry them through the Hinterlands. Cassandra took a small detour towards and old farm stead a few kilometers from the Cross Roads, “there is an old horse master here. Perhaps he will lend aid and give us use of a few horses,” she said hopefully as they approached the largest cabin. A firm knock and a tense few seconds past before an older gentleman opened the door, “greetings, Master Dennet. I am Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast and we have come to you to ask your aid. Could we make use of your horses?”  
Folding his arms, he looked her over before nodding, “I’ve seen what your people have done for the refugees. Let me lend you a couple horses. If you require more, you will have to speak to my wife.”  
Smiling Cassandra extended her hand and gave a firm shake, “Maker bless you! I shall have our Ambassador contact your wife to discuss potential trade of horses.”  
“My daughter will provide you with a few of our fine Fereldan chestnuts to take back to your Ambassador. They’re the best horses in Thedas I assure you,” he waved over to a barn behind Cassandra’s shoulder, “Maker watch over you all,” he tilted his head and calmly shut his door.  
Varric grunted as they crossed the small field towards the barn, “dwarfs aren’t known for their horse riding skills Seeker.”  
“He’s only lending us a couple horses, meaning you will have to ride with someone. Don’t worry Varric, you won’t land on your ass in front of everyone,” Cassandra snickered as they were greeted by the horse master’s daughter, “we’ve come for the horses.”  
“Right, pops says three for you lot,” she turned and opened the barned door, carefully selecting three horses she pulled their reins, “best in Thedas these ones.”  
Blackwall took hold of a set of reins, “my lady ride with me?” holding his hand out to Hyacinth he half smiled as he trotted the horse out into the open. Its coat shinning brilliantly in the mid day sun, hints of fiery red mixed in a wash of sepia tones.  
“I’ve… I’ve never been on horse back before,” Hyacinth’s face flushed bright pink as she tentatively placed her hand in Blackwall’s.   
Carefully he helped her get seated upon the horse before he climbed up behind her, “hang on tightly to the pommel. I have you, do not be afraid, my lady.” His voice was soothing and he was warm against her as he leaned in and turned the horse towards the road.  
“I can do this,” she muttered before she raised her voice, “we can make Haven tonight.”  
“It’s a days journey by foot, we’ll ride the horses to death!” Varric grunted sitting behind Cassandra.  
“Not if I heal them as we ride or as they tire. They will not suffer, I promise,” she turned to Solas who nodded his approval, “if I am in danger and things are as they have claimed we should return at once.”  
Cassandra nodded sharply, “do it. If you cannot handle the pressure and become drained alert us immediately. Do not push yourself past your limits.”  
Riding away swiftly Hyacinth enjoyed the breeze as it rushed against her skin as they raced hard towards Haven. Focusing along the path she was able to maintain her spell and keep the horses fresh till they arrived just as the sun was waning in the sky. Tired and spent she allowed Blackwall to gently tug her down. Before she turned to leaves she patted the horse softly across its nose, “a magnificent thing you are. Well done,” she smiled as the horse seemed to thank her back as it let out a soft snort. Weakly she half staggered back to her hut where she quietly flopped down upon her bed and slipped into a deep sleep.  
“A Tevinter Magister has the indentured service of nearly all the mages in Fereldan!” Cullen shouted across the table as he slammed his hands down, “do you realize the damage they may be forced to enact?”  
“I have more than thought about it, which is why we must do something,” Cassandra rubbed her nose bridge tightly, “we cannot allow an enemy threat on our back door. Especially one so powerful.”  
Josephine cleared her throat, “I have spoken at length with this Dorian Pavus. He is serious in his admissions to assist us, that much I am sure of. He believes this Venatori cult will stop at nothing to kill the Herald,” she looked over and nodded at Leliana, “we have received a letter from this Magister Alexius. You should all read it.”  
Hyacinth rubbed her eyes at the sudden loud banging at her door, “lady Herald, the Inquisition members need you in the war room. It’s urgent my lady, serious business,” a stern male voice barked through the door, “please my lady I must bring you to them right away.”  
Groggy she half stumbled and stubbed her toe on the bed post, “by the Maker,” she grunted as she righted herself, “alright, let’s go.” Opening the door, she followed the man closely through the sleepy village. Dark night had fallen upon the snow-capped mountain side. Slow, steady snowflakes fluttered down to the frozen ground beneath their feet as they followed the torch lit path back to the Chantry. The hinges on the large wooden door moaned as the messenger pushed them open. Once inside Hyacinth was pleased to find it warm and quiet. Walking carefully, she headed straight for the large doors at the back of the hall. With a deep breath and a quick wipe of her face she opened the door, “good evening everyone. What has you calling me at such an hour? How may I be of assistance?”  
“We are having an issue making a choice. Either we proceed with the mages in Redcliffe or we seek out the Templars. Both have equally strong arguments and equally strong issues. We cannot come to a decision and since you have offered your aid, and the face of the Inquisition we humble ask your assistance,” Josephine smiled as she awaited Hyacinth’s words.  
Hyacinth let out a choking laugh, “you can’t be serious? I’m to decide where we go? Me?”  
Cullen grunted, “yes. The situation is critical. Magister Alexius wants you dead and has requested a private meeting in Redcliffe Castle. How he managed to relieve Arl Teagan of it, is something of a mystery.”  
Leliana waved her hand, “yes. He most definitely will kill you when you arrive,” shooting Cullen a stern look, she returned her gaze to Hyacinth, “we cannot leave a dangerous foreign power at our doorstep. We have no idea of the true intentions of this Magister and his ties to this Venatori means he will likely pursue you if you turn him down.”  
“I agreed with Leliana,” Cassandra nodded, “but Cullen seems to find it an issue as does Josephine.”  
Placing her writing board on the table Josephine crossed her arms, “I made the point that to Fereldan we are viewed as heavily Orlesian. If we were to send in heavy soldiers we would be risking declaring open war. Politically our hands are tied.”  
“Redcliffe Castle has faced countless centuries of war fare, demons and village uprisings. It is impenetrable. Once inside, you will die,” taking a moment to calm himself he shook his head, “we should give up this folly and go seek the assistance of the Templars. Surely with a few letters to the right people the Lord Seeker will be forced to see reason.”  
Hyacinth wrapped her arms around herself and nibbled at her lip as she mulled over the information. “Surely there must be another way into the Castle beyond the front portcullis?”   
Leliana let out a sharp giggle, “yes, there is! There is a hidden passage from the old saw mill into the Castle. It’s not wide enough to get heavily armored men in but with enough time we could move forces through!” she smiled brightly over at Cassandra who seemed to share in her sudden thrill.  
Before further discussion could continue the door slammed open, “ah yes, the back door. But if I know Alexius he’ll have magical traps set to detect anyone going in or out of that little side entrance. If you plan on getting through, I can tend to those for you. I know his tricks after all,” Dorian smiled widely as he calmly strolled up beside Hyacinth.  
“Dorian!” Hyacinth smiled back, “that would work perfectly! We can save the mages from that…” she grunted, making a sour face, “I do apologize Dorian.”  
“Ah think nothing of it. After all, he is giving my entire country a foul name with his behaviour. Yes, we need to get those mages out from under him and his Venatori agents,” he tipped his head to her as he twirled his moustache.   
“Great,” Cullen groaned as he threw his hands up, “If we cannot persuade you otherwise then we shall make arrangements to sneak men through the passageway, with Dorian,” he raised an eyebrow as Dorian winked at him, “you’ll need to distract him for a few moments, so our men can get into position. Dorian will lead the way and enter the throne room once they are prepared. If you stick to the shadows and keep quiet, this may just work,” he nodded towards Dorian who returned his gesture, “Though note I am not for this plan. It is entirely too risky, too many unforeseeable factors and it directly puts the Herald at risk,” he snorted as he clenched his eyes shut for a moment, calming himself, “Cassandra make the arranges with her. I need to tend to my men and prepare them to march at once.” Not standing there for a moment longer he pushed passed Dorian and out the door.  
“Rather annoyed isn’t he. Poor man just needs a good drink, and to let himself relax,” Dorian chuckled, “if anyone needs me, I’ll be in the tavern. Do let me know when you plan to carry out this fun little errand. I shall enjoy wiping the smug look off Alexius’s face,” turning he bowed again to Hyacinth, “my dear lady, rest well. You get to play the hero soon.”  
Hyacinth stood stunned, “I don’t know how to be a hero let alone what I am to do here,” turning back to Leliana and Josephine she licked her dry lips, “Maker help.”  
Cullen slashed the larger training dummy before him, transferring his rage into its straw and burlap body. Bits of straw fluttered in the air about him as he drew in a few deep breathes trying to calm himself.   
“Save it for this Venatori cult, Curly,” Varric snipped crossing his arms over his wide chest, “what’s got you all in a huff tonight?”  
Stabbing the blunted practice sword several inches into the ground he turned and snarled at Varric, “I am not ‘in a huff’ Varric.”  
Letting out a snorting giggle Varric pointed his finger at him, “very convincing Curly. Bumbles got your knickers in a twist again?” Waving his hand in the air he sighed and leaned upon the third training dummy. “Bumbles and you don’t get along much. Seems you enjoy butting heads, not that, that isn’t helpful for creating certain tensions but,” he smirked as Cullen shifted uneasily, “ah I see now. You have this guilt thing going on! You feel responsible for her!”  
“It’s not that simple Varric,” he huffed running his hand through his hair the untamed curls bouncing off his knuckles, “you were there when the Kirkwall Chantry exploded. People were dying in the streets, the Knight Commander lost her mind and began slaughtering innocents. Meredith saw blood magic everywhere and was set to nullify everything…”  
“But you stood with Hawke and we stopped it. Can’t you let that part of the story sink in?” Varric shifted against the dummy, straw poking his side.  
“It wasn’t just that day. How long had I let it all slide? How many faced Tranquility at my hand, or another’s because I didn’t stop it?” shaking his head he let out a long groan, “it’s not something you forget Varric. The mess we tried to put back together before Hawke disappeared. She was of great help, and I’m surprised she lent me such aid after all I did. All I said,” standing straighter he shook his head, “we can’t protect mages from templars and templars from mages. We can’t even guarantee safety for the mages. Not this close to the Breach.”  
“Curly, this whole tormented dad thing you have going on, isn’t doing you any good. You need to let it go. You spend too much time walking around with that scowl on your face. Give Bumbles a chance. She just wants to help. No strings attached, no deep meaning. Kids alright. Good head on her shoulders even after being stuck in a stone cage all these years. You might do yourself some good to speak to her,” he stood up straight and brushed the few flecks of straw from his crimson sleeves and side, “besides if anyone here needs a friend. I think it’s you,” Varric nodded and turned, “take the night off Curly, the dangers of the training dummies can wait another day,” smiling he slowly sauntered off towards the tavern.   
Looking back at the sword in the ground Cullen drew in a deep breath. A puff of steam hung about him in the cold night air as he stared at the sword a moment long before turning away and walking towards the Chantry.   
Hyacinth sat upon her coat on the frozen lake as she carefully cleared a little hole in the snow, “ah Scarlet there you are! I was worried something had happened to you,” she smiled down at the little red scaled fish, “I could use a friend right now. They want me to spring some crazy trap. I agreed of course because I can’t see these mages enslaved to a Tevinter Magister. Particularly a nasty one too,” she snorted out his name, “this Alexius. Apparently, he wants me dead and Maker knows what with the mages but I know it won’t be right. All those children,” she closed her eyes tight to fight back tears, “they don’t deserve this. I have to save them,” looking down she noticed two new fish swimming alongside Scarlet, “oh you have some new friends! A beautiful gold one, let’s call you Goldie?” the little fish danced at the name and Hyacinth giggled and clapped, “wonderful! I’m glad you like it. Oh, and you are a perfect little blue fish. How about Sapphire?” the little fish seemed to shake its body in protest, “ah no good huh? Well then, perhaps something simple, Blue then.” The little fish swam a quick lap around the other two fish before stopping before her, “oh, you are all too cute! I shall bring you such treats when spring comes!” Clapping her hands, she smiled down at the little trio, “I hope I have earned such wonderful friends as you Scarlet. I fear I have made no friend in the Commander. Not that I can blame him. If my dreams are true, and I see memories, I cannot fathom his pain. He must mistrust mages greatly, and I have done everything wrong in approaching him. No wonder he grabbed my wrist that night,” she sighed and started tracing little symbols in the snow, “perhaps once we save the mages he will understand and we can speak. I think once the Breach is closed I should tell him the truth,” shivering she sighed, “I would love to spend more time with you three but it is awfully cold tonight and I would prefer my warm bed right now. We are set to leave tomorrow to Redcliffe, ahead of the small group of soldiers. We’re setting everything up and Dorian will check out the mill. We’ll stay at the tavern and in the morning head to the Castle. That should let Dorian properly negate any of Alexius’s magics. I’m scared Scarlet. Absolutely terrified,” the little fish swam tightly between Blue and Goldie, “ah yes, rely on your friends, right?” the fish swam in unison, “wonderful plan. That sounds like a proper idea. Cassandra and Varric have been super sweet to me. Blackwall is,” her cheeks blushed, “very sweet. Were he a younger man, I may think terrible thoughts,” she giggled cupping her mouth, “Solas, he is a wonderful teacher and treats me so kindly. Though I have no idea of his age. He seems timeless and almost mythical.” She stood up brushing the snow off her robes before collecting her coat, “I appreciate our time, my fishy friends. It helps me clear my head. Once I return from the Castle, perhaps I can melt a small hole in the ice and bring you all a winter treat.” Together the three fish swirled and seemed to dance under the ice’s surface. “Be safe you three, take good care of each other. I will be very sad if something were to happen while I was away. Good night Scarlet, Goldie, and Blue,” clutching her coat she carefully climbed over he embankment and began the slow walk back to her hut.   
Walking through the training yard, she noticed something gleaming out of the corner of her eye. A solitary sword sunk into the ground, “odd,” she wondered as she walked through the vacant yard up towards the gate. Quickly slipping through the gate she took the few steps up before turning to her hut upon the left.   
“Hey Bumbles!” Varric quickly waved her down, “you up for a game of Wicked Grace? Or perhaps a drink at the tavern? I’m buying,” he smiled widely as he came to rest a few steps from her.  
“Oh, I don’t know Varric. We’re leaving tomorrow and I’d really like to get some rest,” she smiled politely as she tried to stifle a shutter.  
“Suit yourself. My offer is open once we return from Redcliffe if you want to,” turning back to head down the steps he stopped, “hey kid, give Cullen a chance he’d going through some things. None of them have to do with you, ok.”  
“I’m aware the Commander has some issues. Have no fear, I am hoping to speak with him once we seal the Breach. Make things right once the main threat is dealt with. I appreciate your concern. You are a good friend to him, and I hope maybe one day me,” she smiled warmly as she pulled the handle to her hut and walked inside.


	6. Scattering the Seeds

Hyacinth swiped at the beads of sweat trickling down her temple as she rode up to the large portcullis of Redcliffe Castle. Cassandra, Blackwall, and Varric following close beside her in somber silence as they were quickly greeted and ushered into the inner courtyard. Training dummies sat idle and dirty on the left of a large stone stairway leading towards a bulky double door into the castle. A looming oak cast eerie shadows along the stone path encircling a massive well in the center of the courtyard. Hyacinth went over the conversation with Cullen in her head, “once you enter the main gates you will need to slow yourself as much as you can. Our men will need at least fifteen minutes to reach the main throne room where you will be. The large well in the main court area is above the hidden walkway. They will signal their movement with the sound of a bird’s song. You must maintain your calm. Count your breaths. At your hundredth breath, the men will be in position and Dorian should appear with you. Once he has arrived you will be safe. We can apprehend this Magister and return him to Tevinter.” Cullen had been harsh yet patient. It was visible he was concerned about their choice to proceed with the Magister. “The walls of Redcliffe castle have never been breached and are impenetrable,” repeated in her head, his eyes shimmered with concern. Nipping her lip into her mouth she listened for the caw of a bird. Slowing her horse to a crawl she finally heard it. The sweet sound of a nightingale singing. More confident now she began to count each breath as she carefully hopped down from her horse and handed the reigns to a shy stable hand.   
Counting from the moment she heard the song she slowed her movements as naturally as she could. Stopping to aid Blackwall, pretending to tend to a minor injury before carefully creeping up the steps towards the Castle interior. Thirty-four, she counted as she reached the top of the long stairwell pausing for her companions to catch up. All having been told to take their time. Taking in a deep breath she counted forty and walked through the large double doors into the castle. Candles flickered their meager light barely making a dent in the looming darkness of the halls. Hyacinth nibbled at the inside of her cheek, trying to keep from screaming. All around her she could barely make out the shapes of the rooms. A male voice perked her attention forwards, “lady Trevelyan, we’re honored you have graced us with your presence.” There was a brief silence as she tried to make out his appearance in the darkness, “my lady, Magister Alexius only requested your presence. I am afraid I am not permitted to announce your, compatriots,” his last word lingered with a bitterness.  
Hyacinth recalled the training from Leliana, “smile and be as polite as possible but firm. These are your attaches, they are here to bargain with you and you will be lost without them. Refuse to enter without them and hold out. He will be forced to concede and bring you in. Be strong and firm. If you do not feel it, then pretend it with all your might. It will appear genuine.” Taking in a calming breath counting fifty-seven, “I’m so sorry but these people are my attaché. You simply cannot deprive me of their aid during negotiations with the Magister. I will be forced to withdraw,” she let the last word hang as she waited for his response.  
“No, no! It is fine,” he waved his hands in the air but his voice faltered, “come follow me and I shall announce you to the Magister right away.” Holding a lamp in his hand he guided them down several halls. Weaving in and out of areas. Hyacinth quickly figured out what he was doing. It was dark to keep them from finding their way, and the constant redirection was to throw off any hope of remembering their way out again. It was all to prevent her from getting away. His lamp barely cast shadows down the halls as they calmly walked through doorways. Scanning in the darkness proved useless as stone wall in the low light maintained it’s look no matter what room they plodded through. Thankfully it was adding to her count as she continued to track her breaths. Making a mental note to thank Cullen once they returned. Each time she focused on her breathing and with each count, it steadied her mind. Driving the fear down inside of her, making it manageable. She still felt the overwhelming need to run, but at least she could control the wobble in her step. Ninety- two, she counted as they walked into a spacious room, well lit by a grandiose hearth. Sitting before the roaring fire was Alexius, upon what Hyacinth figured must have been the throne. To his right was Felix and his left Grand Enchanter Fiona. Carefully she walked forward now able to see the room in it’s entirety. Excessive columns of marble lined both sides of the room, the light from the fire just barely illuminating them. Outlines of men in armor similar to Alexius’s sharp, spikey style stood firm between each pillar. Walking towards the hearth the announcer cleared his throat, “introducing Lady Trevelyan and her,” grunting out the word, clearly annoyed he rolled his eyes, “attaché.”  
“Greetings friends,” Alexius grinned wide as he shifted in his seat, “though I was not expecting such a crowd. No matter,” he waved his hand, “let us get down to business. I have what you need, the Southern mages. What can you give to me?”  
One hundred, taking a deep breath she went to speak before Fiona cut in, “are we mages not to have a say in our fate?” Biting her tongue, she watched as Alexius became visibly frustrated and snarled back at Fiona, “you have placed your people in my care. If you didn’t wish my decision or trust my choices perhaps you should have chosen otherwise.” With his anger temporarily taken out upon Fiona he seemed to settle himself before returning his gaze upon Hyacinth, “now, where were we? Ah yes,” rising from his seat he clasped his hands firmly behind his back, “what have you to offer me?”  
Feeling bold now, knowing that extra time had past guaranteeing the soldiers and Dorian would be in the room any moment now she grinned, “I believe you want my life and to withhold the mages, but that isn’t going to happen today.”  
Alexius’s eyes bulged out as he half stumbled, “what?! I know not of what you…”  
“Please father,” Felix stepped forward and tenderly gripped his father’s arm, “she knows everything.”  
Alexius fumbled for words before Dorian appeared from the darkness, “ah yes please don’t add to this trite image you’ve put on Alexius. You’re managing to come across as the stereotypical blood mage from the dreaded Tevinter Imperium, how crass.” He grinned as he strode beside Hyacinth.   
“Dorian, I gave you a chance to join us and you turned me down. Now you have the gall to come and stand against me?” Alexius began pacing, “the Elder One will see Tevinter raised back to it’s rightful place as ruler of Thedas. Tevinter will once again be the proud bastion of culture and power in the world. You,” he thrust his finger towards Hyacinth, “thief. The mark upon your hand should have been His. Now I can right that wrong and be rid of you. Venatori! Remove the interloper!”  
Silence fell over the room as Hyacinth squinted to see between the columns. She had caught sight of some movement and sounds akin to gargling. As she focused she smiled wide, catching a glimpse of Inquisition armor in the flickering hearth fire light, “Alexius, you’ve lost. Return the mages and go back to Tevinter!” she stood taller, feeling assured and safe now that the small army had gathered.   
Letting out a howling scream Alexius reached for something under his robes, “fine, then I shall deal with you myself. You should have never existed!” he barked as he held out an amulet. Pulsing brilliant blues and greens as Alexius focused and began altering the magics around it. Dorian’s eyes flared wide as he twirled his staff, “Alexius, NO!” he shouted casting a focused blast of energy, which knocked Alexius backward.  
Feeling the magic ripple around her Hyacinth tried to let out a scream but her voice carried into a large void the amulet produced just before Dorian’s blast knocked Alexius back. It tugged at her body and despite her every effort it pulled her inside. Tumbling in the empty void she tried to grasp her senses as she was violently tossed onto the ground. Landing face first into ankle deep freezing water she came up coughing and sputtering. Looking beside her she was glad to see Dorian also sharing in her unsuspecting cold dip, “Dorian,” she managed to get out between coughs, “what happened?”  
Dorian stood up running his hands down his face trying to remove the water, “Alexius used the amulet to open a portal. To where, I am not so sure,” looking around he shook his head, “I can’t tell if we’re still in the castle but I can tell you this looks slightly familiar.”  
Hyacinth stood and began to ring out her hair and as much of her robes as she could. Her feet were freezing as the water soaked through her boots and socks, “we should get out of this water before we catch the rot,” she groaned, “Maker please help us,” she sighed as the fumbled to find a door.   
Dorian cast out his magic and managed to light two braziers upon the wall. Stone walls with rotted tapestries greeted them. Iron barred doors and a single wooden door were the only entrances to the room, “yes this looks like the dungeons we passed through to get to the throne room earlier,” Dorian grinned, “I think I know where we are going, if this is the same castle.”  
Before they could make further movements, the wooden door swung wide and slammed into the stone wall. Two men dressed in similar robes to Alexius quickly pointed to them, “blood of the Elder One, get them!” the smaller man said as he reached for his sword.  
Hyacinth reacted quickly and cast out a barrier as Dorian slammed his staff into the face of the second man, breaking his neck on impact. Splitting her focus, she tried to create a fireball in her palm. Holding the barrier with her staff she created the small egg sized ball and tossed it into the face of the unsuspecting man. As the ball impacted his helmet it exploded causing his head to come clean off his shoulders, the helmet rolling away in the water, head and all. Gripped her stomach with her one hand she felt ill. Dorian was right beside her pulling her towards the door, “no, don’t look.” He pushed her into the hall, “stay here, I’ll search the bodies to see if there is anything on them to help us.”  
Breathing deeply, she didn’t turn around as Dorian raced back into the room. Stone walls felt as if they were crushing down on her as she struggled to get a grip. “Count your breaths,” Cullen’s voice rang through her head as she drew in another slow breath and began counting. With each breath, she found herself settling and things were coming back into focus. Twenty-two, she stood tall and peeked over her shoulder just as Dorian came through the doorway, “I have good news and bad news. We’ll get the bad news out of our way first. Bad news, they have no information on them about where we are. Good news, it seems they had keys, which are now ours. That should make our search for information much easier. Are you well enough to continue?” he motioned towards a door at the end of the corridor, “I’m guessing that way should lead us to a more open area we can then fumble about there.”  
Hyacinth nodded and let Dorian take the lead. As they walked she sheepishly stammered out, “I… I am not so good combat magic. I’ve only just figured out fire.”  
Laughing Dorian used the key on the door and peeking his head around the corner he waved her through, “have no fear my dear, I shall take care of the heavy work. I do hope you are decent at healing. Your barriers are impressive.”  
Hyacinth let out a weak giggle as they entered an immense gaping area with bridges crossing to a center column. Only a single bridge lay down before them to head to the center pillar. Crossing carefully their only option was to go right, across another metal bridge and through a wooden door. Large hanging braziers lit the area well and they could see over a railing that a fall would mean certain death, “come, there must be something this way. If not perhaps we can find some lever to lower the other bridges.” Two other bridges sat up, preventing them from crossing to the other side. Picking her way carefully over the bridge she held her breath till she was through the wooden door. More rot and decaying tapestry, tables, chairs and other scraps of long gone life lay strewn about the halls and rooms. As they walked through the well-lit halls they could hear someone praying, “I think that’s Cassandra!” Hyacinth raced off to follow the sound. Pushing through a door at the far end of a long corridor, they walked into a room with prison cells along the walls. The first cell on the right of the door sat a lone woman, curled up in a ball. Even in the odd setting Hyacinth knew immediately that it was Cassandra’s body curled up, uttering prayers to the Maker. “Cassandra, Cassandra are you alright?” Hyacinth raced over to the bars and tugged on the door as Dorian fumbled with the keys.  
“Herald? It is truly the end of days when the dead are not permitted to rest,” Cassandra staggered to her feet a look of shock etched into her pale, ashen face.  
“I’m not dead, its… well its… wait, why do you think I’m dead?” Hyacinth stood confused as Dorian began trying keys in the door.  
“We saw you die. Magister Alexius used his magic and all that was left was a pile of ash, where you once stood.”   
“Ah, I can explain that,” Dorian mused, “Alexius used the amulet and time magic to send us somewhere. What is the date it is very important, please,” he plead as he found the correct key and unlocked the cell door.  
“It is nine forty-two Dragon, Harvestmere,” she let out a cough as she doubled over.  
“Maker you aren’t well, what has happened?” Hyacinth quickly reached for her.  
“We’ve been sent forward in time! A whole year!” Dorian exclaimed loudly until the sight of their other companions caught his attention. With haste, he hurried over to release them from their cells.  
“I have been tainted with red lyrium, we all have,” Cassandra spat blood on the ground, “it consumes you, slowly, then you become it. Fiona… Fiona didn’t make it,” she pointed over to a cell across from them. Eerie red light pulsed from a fractal crystal structure that seeped into the walls of the cell and stone. Peering closer Hyacinth let out a muffled squawk. Fiona’s face, in twisted agony sat staring wide eyed out of the heart of the crystal, “by the Maker,” she exhaled as their other compatriots came forward, “we must find Alexius, use the amulet and stop this madness from ever happening.”  
Blackwall smiled, his eyes emitting an eerie red glow, “yes, I can get behind that. He’s held up in his throne room but we must make a stop on our way. They caught Leliana, not too long back. I fear she may be in the torturer’s rooms now. If we hurry she can help us, at the least we can help her.”  
Varric nodded as he opened a chest sitting on top of a molded table, “hey, our gear’s in here. They didn’t even give a shit to toss it.”   
Gearing up as best at they could they set out to find they had to double back to the room with the bridges. Pulling a lever half hidden beside the door the bridge across from them dropped. Rushing across they found another long corridor with multiple doors. Many rusted shut from constant water dripping down and with no one around to tend to them they had long since fused shut. Moving down the hall the ever-present glow of red lyrium seemed to surround them. Veins of red lyrium wound through the mortar of the stone walls, giving off a malicious feel as they raced through the halls. As they reached the end and neared the bend to turn down they heard someone struggling through a door. Blackwall nodded to Cassandra and together they burst through.   
Leliana hung from her wrists, her feet dangling a meter from the ground. A man in a hooded robe held a knife tightly in his hand and was reaching for her. With the sudden sound of the door bursting in the man turned his back on Leliana. That was to be his last mistake. Cat like reflexes moved as she flipped her hips up and locked her powerful thighs around the mans neck. A snarl and a whip of those hips and she snapped the man’s neck before he had a chance to utter a sound. As his body slumped down Blackwall and Cassandra raced forward to help release her from the shackles. Grunting as she slipped down into Blackwall’s arms she locked eyes with Hyacinth. Leliana’s face was pale and gnarled, pock marks deeply inset. Smooth and delicate creamy skin was now creased, ashen and blotched with black spots. Skin showing black veins throbbing as her blood shot eyes pierced through Hyacinth, “what have they done to you?” Hyacinth blurted out as Leliana scanned the room, eyes darting here and there.  
“You do not wish to know. Are you all armed?” Turning back to the group no one was willing to speak up as they each solemnly nodded. “Good, Magister Alexius has moved to his throne room, a special lock has been placed on the door to prevent people from getting in. We must find a way in and stop him,” without looking over at the others she grabbed several knives off the instrument table behind her and packed them on herself as best as she could. Finding a chest in the corner she pulled out a bow and a small quiver of arrows, “we need to hurry.”  
Dorian stood stunned, “you don’t want to know how it is possible we are here? Or why?”  
“No,” Leliana moved towards the door, “this is why mages are feared. Such magic should never exist.”  
“We can undo it, we can make this right if we find Alexius!” Hyacinth pleaded with as they walked swiftly out the door, following closely behind Leliana.  
“You think this is a joke?” Leliana snapped as they continued to move, “I suffered, the world suffered. The Elder One assassinated the Empress of Orlais. Using his army of demons, he swept all Thedas, there is no one left to defy him. Do not speak to me of what could have been,” she harshly ushered them back towards the bridge room. Pulling another lever, the main gate dropped into place.   
Hyacinth remained silent, trying to process all the information she was receiving all at once. She repeated over to herself the information. Empress assassinated. Demon army. If they could successfully return to their time they would need to tell the others. To get this information to them to stop this ‘Elder One’ whoever he was. Heading deeper into the castle they arrived at a hidden port. Leliana skillfully picked through the port and retrieving as many arrows as she could scavenge as she continued to lead them deeper into the castle, “this way. We shall be in the main courtyard through here, then we’ll need to get into the main hall. We shall see this special lock Alexius has issued.”  
Hyacinth’s feet were frozen, boots still soaking wet and every step shot pain through her. She wished they could stop to dry her clothes and heat herself up. Walking through the courtyard doors she gasped and nearly feel to her knees. Above them in the sky the Breach not only lay open but it covered their field of view. Swirling green lights flashed and rained down upon the land. As they walked over to the well she had seen upon originally arriving to the castle a thunderous clap ripped through the air as two rifts opened before them, “quickly!” she yelled out as she cast a barrier on those the demons appeared before.   
Fiercely fighting with all they could they carved a path through the demons so Hyacinth could seal the rifts, “this is our reality now. Demons everywhere and with no one able to seal the Breach it ripped open the skies. Rifts and demons appear at random. They have destroyed all they have touched. We must hurry!” Leliana yelled out as the last rift closed.  
Hyacinth let out a gasp as she saw the blood-stained walls behind them leading back out towards Redcliffe village. A skeleton wedged in between the bars of the gate. Squinting she closed her eyes tight and bit her lip to stop the scream from ripping from her chest. Upon the skeleton, she recognized the black and red flecked fur mantle of Commander Cullen. Blackwall’s hand on her arm snapped her back into reality, “the Inquisition tried. They ground themselves against the wall. Fight after fight, trying to get in. But this doesn’t have to be this way, come,” he tugged her forward as they continued up the stair well and into the building.   
Even in the darkness Leliana knew where she was going. Guiding them around molded furniture, fallen walls and barred doors till they stood in the room adjacent to the throne room. Bodies littered the floor both Venatori and demon. Some fresh, some rotting away. Bone and gore in equal measure. Dorian raced up to the door, “I know this lock! I’ve never seen one outside of a museum, it’s ancient Tevinter magic,” he ran his finger tips over the cold metal, thumb size sockets empty emitting a tingling sensation as he touched them. “We need sized stones to fit these grooves. He must have given them to people that would come to serve him. There are bodies in this room, perhaps we shall find a few on them?”  
People spread out to search bodies as Hyacinth picked up a book laying upon a table near the door. It wasn’t covered in dust and dirt like the other things. Flipping through to the last page written in she read it.  
I have tried everything in my power to do as the Elder One asks but no matter what I do it is impossible. It seems I can go no further back in time than the creation of the Breach. I have tried to go back to the moment Felix’s caravan was attacked by the darkspawn. I failed in that too it seems. I am doomed as we all are. I cannot save Felix now, yet another failure. Soon the Elder One will come for me. Have I betrayed everything I ever knew for nothingness? I have sent the servants away, locked myself within my hallowed space as I await the end.   
Gereon Alexius  
Shaking her head, she looked up to see the group gathering and handing several stones to Dorian. Watching him intently she readied herself as he placed the stones in their holes. Counting each breath, she watched as the stones lit up, bright red and the door began to glow a pale yellow. Slowly the door creaked open and everyone slipped inside. Standing at the hearth, as he had before, Alexius remained unmoved as they entered the room, “it’s over Alexius.” Dorian pleaded as he entered the room.  
“I always knew you’d return. I knew I hadn’t truly killed you. My last failure,” he tossed several papers into the fire and watched as they curled, flames biting into the parchment and consuming the fibers.  
“It doesn’t have to end like this Alexius. Give us the amulet and we can go back and stop all of this,” Hyacinth spoke softly to him as she carefully approached the hearth. Something moved out of the corner of her eyes and she nearly fell down in fright at the sight before her. Hunched in a tight ball something not quite human scurried forward to squat beside Alexius, “Maker’s breath!” Hyacinth jumped back.  
“Felix!? Alexius, what have you done to him?” Dorian half crumpled to his knees, barely catching himself with his staff.   
Before Alexius could answer Leliana swept behind the lad with impressive speed and lifted him up. His beady eyes darted back and forth as he half hung from her arms, “no, don’t hurt my boy!” Alexius cried as Leliana drew a blade to the boy’s neck.  
“Please, just give us the amulet, Leliana please,” Hyacinth pleaded.  
Her pleas were in vain as Leliana’s lip curled up, yellow stained teeth and blanche gums gleaming in the flickering fire light, “I want the world back.” Slowly she drew the blade across Felix’s neck. Black, bubbling sludge oozed from the wound as he half gargled and collapsed to the floor, twitching before he ceased his movements.   
Alexius let out a pained cry as he raced forward, using his magic he slammed Leliana away into the wall with a crunching thud. Hyacinth knew there would be no reasoning with him now and immediately cast up a barrier to shield everyone. She did so just in time, as Alexius let loose a barrage of anger. Fire and lightning rained down around them as Alexius wailed in agony. “We have to stop him!” Hyacinth grunted as she held the barrier firm against the onslaught.   
“I’ve got this,” Varric grinned setting himself up, “when I say go, drop the barrier. I only need one shot.”  
Hyacinth swallowed hard as the lightning intensified and Alexius’s wailing grew louder and more sorrowful. She couldn’t bear it. Closing her eyes tight she waited for Varric to give the word. Counting breathes she waited. One, two, three, four, “go!” Varric yelled and she dropped the shield. Bolts of lightning struck the ground around them, and then silence. Hyacinth opened her eyes to see an arrow sunk deep into Alexius’s chest, blood spilling from his mouth as he dropped to his knees and toppled to the floor.  
Dorian raced forward and began digging through Alexius’s pockets, frantically, “thank the Maker!” he raised the amulet above his head, “it is the same amulet we created in Minrathous.”  
“You must… hurry and go back…,” Leliana struggled to get to her feet, blood staining her teeth.  
“I’ll need an hour to….”  
“You don’t have an hour,” the group utter in perfect unison. As they spoke the castle trembled, dirt and loose stones rattled to the floor, “the Elder One!” Cassandra gasped, “you must go now, he has arrived.” Together they silently agreed with each other and headed towards the door.  
“Where are you going? What’s going on?” Hyacinth scrambled to understand.  
“We shall hold them off as long as we can,” Blackwall’s face was somber as he spoke, “Leliana will be your last line of defense.”  
“Wait, no! That’s suicide!” Hyacinth sobbed out at the tears rolled down her checks.  
Leliana grabbed her arm tightly, “we’re already dead, unless this day never comes,” looking back to Dorian she nodded and released Hyacinth’s arm, “you have as much time, as I have arrows.”  
Dorian grabbed Hyacinth and dragged her to the back of the room by the hearth. Focusing on the arcane runes on the amulet it began to hover and spin in the air. As he mumbled words Hyacinth couldn’t understand, there was loud banging and the castle rocked. Something roared and she cowered. Spinning quicker now the amulet began to flicker the same green and blue as before.   
Hyacinth jumped and cast a barrier around them as the chamber doors burst forth, “don’t look!” Dorian pulled her closer, “if you move, we’re all dead!”   
Throwing her hands over her eyes she hunkered down beside Dorian, trying desperately to focus on his mumbling words as the sound of demons and metal clashing echoed in the room. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clasped at her mouth to stop the scream from coming. She could hear Blackwall grunt and the sound of something heavy hit the floor. One, two, she began counting and Varric screamed out and was violently quieted. Finally, she could hear Leliana praying, then her grunt in pain. It seemed as if the demons would reach them, then the same feeling as before. Being pulled and the ground disappeared beneath her. Opening her eyes, she was back in the throne room, in her time, as if all that had never occurred. Blinking away the tears she stood before Alexius.  
“You’ve lost Alexius, it’s over,” Dorian grinned as he smashed the amulet on the ground.  
Hyacinth felt a rage bubble up inside of her. Without thinking she open hand slapped Alexius across the face, “you… you…” she let out a screaming growl as he fell to the floor.   
Cassandra raced up and gripped her tightly about the shoulders, “breath, it is over.”   
“You have no idea…” Hyacinth’s fists were clenched tightly as she glared down at Alexius. Inquisition soldiers paced forward and secured him and carted him away.   
Before anything else could happen, the large main entry way opened, light breaking into the dark room. Storming through the room, men in full plate armor bearing the seal of the Fereldan hierarchy. Cassandra took a step back as the men split and stepped aside, revealing the King himself. Alistair Theirin. Calmly he paced towards Hyacinth, “excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt but I have some business with the Grand Enchanter. It seems, or so I am told, she has given away Redcliffe Castle to an Imperium Magister. Am I hearing that correctly?” his baritone voice echoed cool and calm through the hall. Ginger hair carefully groomed, dressed in fine leather trimmed with gleaming white fur. His dark eyes scanned the room and fell upon Fiona.  
“King… King Alistair! I didn’t know… I…” she nearly tripped over her robes as she stumbled to get before him.  
Alistair’s demeanor shifted as his face fell, “I wanted to help you, help your people. Truly you have my respect for your cause, but I cannot allow what has happened to go unpunished. I’m sorry. You and you people must leave Fereldan.”  
Fiona choked on her own saliva, “but your highness we have children, innocence!”  
Shaking his head, he let out a sigh, “you should have thought of that before handing my Uncle’s castle to a Tevinter mage.”  
“I have an offer,” Hyacinth sheepishly raised her hand, “we need aid in sealing the Breach. Come, join us as allies and seal the Breach. We can make this right!” her voice was impassioned and pleading as she glanced back and forth from Hyacinth to Alistair.   
Thinking for a moment Fiona was silent. Alistair’s voice cut the ambience, “were I you, Grand Enchanter, I would take the option. Either way, you are leaving my kingdom.”  
Nodding in defeat Fiona glanced back at Hyacinth, “we except your offer. I shall begin readying my people to march to Haven immediately. I am so sorry, your highness,” she bowed and quickly disappeared from view.   
“I apologize. A bit of bitter business,” Alistair smiled at Hyacinth, “you must be the Herald of Andraste I have heard so much about. I would like to extend my thanks for your aid in the Hinterlands. You have given my people food, comfort and peace. I am in your debt,” tipping his head he smiled widely, “I shall send word to your ambassador, perhaps we can work together and rid Thedas of these pesky demons.”  
Hyacinth smiled widely, “I would love nothing more than to aid the people, your majesty.”  
Nodding Alistair looked over his shoulder, “if you’ll excuse me, I have a bit more business here. We shall speak again soon. Thank you again for your aid,” turning back he headed towards the entrance of the castle.  
Cassandra let out a frustrated grunt, “we must return to Haven, immediately.”  
Hyacinth was quiet the entire journey back. Her hands shook in the reigns of her horse and she kept her head down. It wasn’t until it was quiet, away from the castle that Hyacinth broke down. Tears flowed, ugly sobs muffled into her sleeve as they rode to Haven. Stopping once to switch to fresh horses they rode until they reached Haven’s gates. Hyacinth half flopped down from her saddle and raced back to her hut. As she ran through the gates she half slammed into Cullen again. Looking up with swollen eyes she started sobbing harder. Without thought she threw her arms around him and buried her face into his chest.   
Standing in shock he didn’t know how to react at first. He had come down to check on their party’s arrival. Cassandra had sent word ahead with a messenger bird and he was originally furious. Allowing the mages free reign as their allies would mean limited, if any oversite. Surely, they were in danger of abominations and possessions with the Breach being so close. Instead he was greeted with the most pitiful sight he had ever seen. His heart broke hearing her weep so bitterly. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her tightly, “lady Trevelyan,” he tried to speak calmly but she didn’t reply, “Hyacinth.”  
Sniffling she leaned back, “you called me by my name, you never do that,” she gave a weak giggle. Carefully she released her hold of him and tried to right herself, “I’m so sorry. I’m a terrible mess, a terrible Herald,” she started crying again as she brought her sleeves up to her face.  
Shaking his head, he spoke softly, “no, Maker no. You are doing the best you can and you have done well. We asked you to help us and you have done as we asked. We now have aid in the mages,” he shifted uneasily, “while it would not have been my first choice, it has been made and we can now organize to seal the Breach. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, my lady. Many other mages would have crumpled under such pressures. Cassandra sent word ahead of your events. I can tell you are not alright, is there anything I can do to lend aid?”   
Hyacinth sniffled as she wiped at her face, sleeve soppy wet and dirty leaving streaks across her cheeks, “I… I could use another hug, if it’s not too much,” her voice was shaky and her cheeks tinted pink as she looked up at him sheepishly.  
Cullen flushed bright red as he cleared his throat, “if… if it will help,” he quickly peered around to see no one was watching, “alright.”  
Gripping him tightly she rubbed her face into his furry mantle. Inhaling his scent, she felt safe. Even thought he wore unusual armor and a strange cloak, he reminded her of the wonderful times she would spend with the templars in her Circle. Caring, tender souls who saw her as a person. Saw her weaknesses and her strengths and weren’t afraid of her. Something felt right about his arms wrapped around her tight. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she let out a soft sigh, “thank you,” she mumbled against his chest, “this is what I needed.”   
Nervously patting her back, his cheeks burning hot he chuckled, “I’m glad you feel better, my lady.” Something inside him wanted to linger, to stay but he knew better. There was work to do. Mages coming in, lyrium rations to dole out, whatever templars they had needed to be educated on the Inquisitions way of handling things. He’d need to alter the duty roster, be sure there was a wide berth given to the mages and their designated area. But Maker, did it feel wonderful to hold her. It calmed him, and despite the burn of his cheeks he wished to hold her longer. Feeling her arms slip loose from behind him, he quickly stood firm, “my lady, I sadly must take my leave. Rest this evening. The mages should arrive in their entirety by mid afternoon. If all goes well we shall be ready to seal the Breach in a days time. You require rest. If you need anything come find me,” he smiled brightly down at her, biting back the sorrow gnawing at him.   
“Thank you, Commander. If anything, I could use a hot bath. It always made me feel better in the Circle,” taking a moment she looked up at him, “do you miss the Circles?”  
Cullen let out a snort, “Maker no. My time within the Circles was frantic, chaotic and something I’d rather not remember. I get the feeling your experience was a pleasant one.”  
“I… it was,” she bit back the urge to tell him about her dreams, “could we speak in private, after we seal the Breach? I must speak to you about something personal.”  
Cocking his head to the side slightly he nodded, “if you wish so, I will make myself available to you.”  
Hyacinth smiled, “thank you. I’m sorry,” she slapped her forehead with her palm, “you must be so busy preparing, I am keeping you. Please, do not let me distract you from your work. Maker forgive me,” she sighed and quickly stepped to the side out of his way.  
Chuckling Cullen reached up to rub the base of his neck, a stiff knot brought low pain as he worked at it, keeping him focused, “you were in need, I could not bring myself to decline you.”  
Letting out a long yawn Hyacinth covered her mouth to stifle it, “I’m sorry. Please we can speak at length when the danger has past. Thank you again for your kindness. It has meant the world to me this night,” smiling again she turned to take the few steps to her hut, “if you require healing, or have spare time to speak, no matter the hour, come see me.”   
Cullen simply nodded and watched as she walked up the steps and disappeared into her hut. Counting his breaths, he calmed himself down and proceeded back up to the Chantry. By now Leliana, Josephine and Cassandra would have gathered within to discuss plans moving forward. Glancing back over his shoulders he watched the light flicker around the window of her hut. What was this thing he was feeling? How could she bring out this blushing, young man in him?


	7. Avoiding the Frost

Hyacinth spent the night in and out of nightmares. Several times she awoke screaming only to burst into tears. Cooling her finger tips, she tried to smooth away the swelling around her eyes and her eye lids. As her shoulders shuttered she peeked out the door of her hut. Darkness of night hung heavy on the sleepy village. Not a soul seemed to be awake or moving. Catching a hiccup in her throat she wrapped a cloak around herself and made her way to the Chantry. Slipping silently through the door she crept through the halls. Carefully she tugged on the door to the small chapel. Sticking to the shadows and being extra cautious with each step she quietly found a spot to sit. Waving her hand over the unlit candles she lit a couple dozen and knelt to pray.   
Sniffling as she prayed she barely heard someone walk by where she was knelt. Only the sound of someone uttering prayers caught her attention. Raising her head to just look over the lip of the pew before her she could just make out a tall man. He was knelt before the statue of Andraste, hands clasped firmly before him. Raising just a bit more she could make out his shape. Thick shoulders, tight with muscle under thin linen. Hair tightly curled, in a golden color that gleamed under the wavering candle light. He seemed familiar but she couldn’t place where, unable to make out his voice from the back of the room. Not wanting to disturb him she quietly tried to make her way to the door. Focused so intently on exiting the room she tripped and came tumbling out into the main aisle. Face flushed red she jumped up and bolted out of the room without speaking a word. Racing through the main door she didn’t stop till she returned to her hut, huffing and puffing. Sliding down her door she fell into a fit of laughter. Whoever saw her race out the door must be very confused and that amused her greatly. Letting out a long yawn she sluffed her cloak off and hung it upon the hook on the wall. Pulling down the blankets she got back into bed and with a few moments was back asleep.  
Morning came and went; the noon sun rose high in the sky casting a wonderful warmth against the harsh of the frozen mountain air. Stretching her legs out in the bed she lazily rolled over. Sleep had been a hard-fought prize of the night. Rationalizing that with the mages still travelling they wouldn’t need her she opted to stay in bed. Everything felt heavy and numb. The pain and anguish of yesterday gave way to a sense of nothingness. Part of her was angry. Part of her wished that Alexius was dead for what he did. There was still a large part of her that wanted to help him, felt sorry for him. All he did, all the evil and the horrors he inflicted upon the world was only to save his son. His son, who would now surely die without his father’s care. Struggling with the thought she rolled back over, steady streams of light breaking through the crevices of the window shutters. Grunting she leaned up in bed. Her front door silently opened, a serving girl with a bucket of steaming water padded across the floor and poured her load into the tub. Hyacinth laid back down and calmly watched as servants worked nearly in perfect silence to fill her tub. Smiling she thought of Cullen. Her only request being a hot bath. Perhaps this was his work. Sitting up in bed she smiled widely, a servant stopped and returned her smile, “the Commander ordered we prepare you a hot bathe. He is concerned since you have not come out of your hut this morning. He has requested I look in upon you and provide you with a meal if needed,” the young elven girl spoke clearly and directly.   
Nodding Hyacinth swung her legs over the bed, “I am adjusting,” she stood and steadied herself, “please inform the Commander I would enjoy a meal, his concerns are greatly appreciated and I shall venture out once I have washed. Thank you as well for your hard work,” she smiled as the elven girl tipped her head and darted out the door. A woven basket sat upon her small table, filled with bathing bottles. Placing the basket on a chair near her tub she began discarded her nightgown and stepped into the tub. Easing herself down she let out a long sigh.   
Cullen stood before the war room table, Josephine droning on about lyrium supply chains, rationing of current stock and instructing their small templar force about their joint effort. All things he already thought of late last night. Pinching his nose bridge tightly between his fingers he let slip a soft groan.  
“Did you not get any rest last night, Commander?” Cassandra was clearly irritated as she picked up a couple sheets of paper off the table.  
“It was an, uncomfortable night, Cassandra,” he barely looked up, the pounding in his head causing his vision to double, “I have already seen to the templars within our ranks. Shifted the schedule, began laying out the lyrium between our men and set up an area for combat mages to practice their craft. Is there anything else that is required of me in this meeting? I intend to prepare the men to march on the Breach tomorrow morning.”  
Leliana arched her eyebrow up as slow smile crossed her lips, “eager to seal the Breach, Commander. Is there something you aren’t sharing with us?”  
Cullen’s cheeks flushed red as he nearly choked on his own saliva, “no, why… why would there be… what do you mean?”  
All three women let out a chorus of giggles as he groaned. Not wanting to hear another word he smirked, “you’ll excuse me. I haven’t the time for giggling, there is work to be done,” setting his shoulders back and with a personal pride in each step he marched from the room.  
Servants brought Hyacinth fresh clothes and a warm meal. Taking extra care, she felt the water melt away the ache in her core. The feeling of loneliness and powerlessness slowly easing into the water. Frustration replaced sorrow, anguish became self-loathing and the feeling of helplessness gave way to an urge to be more. Toweling off she resolved to do something about her abilities. She could heal, cast a barrier and now a small explosive fireball but beyond that she wasn’t very good in combat. Opting to wear a pair of leather breeches and short tunic she tied her belt tightly about her waist. A medical bag at her hip she filled it with a few healing potions, a couple of her left over lyrium draughts and some bandaging clothe. Clipping a knife to her thigh she nodded. If the world was relying on her shoulders she would need to be more, do more than cower and pray her friends could do the job. Fear clinging to her throat she pulled her waist long hair to the side. Taking the knife in her hand and staring in the mirror she sliced her hair to just below her shoulders. Tossing her hair in the hearth she clipped the knife into its sheath. Tying her hair into a braid she drew in a deep breath and left her hut.   
Shoulders set back she marched with determination to the training field. Upon arriving at a stack of dummies she suddenly felt insecure. How was she going to learn to do any of this? Searching the weapon rack, she picked up a sword. It just felt right in her hand. Remembering all the times she watched the templars training in the yard out the small slit window of the kitchen she gripped the hilt firmly. Knight Commander Emile had drilled into his men repeatedly different techniques and she had adored watching the young men sweat and work. Several times she had even been granted the privilege of watching them train upon the field, to best treat to wounds of the unseasoned youth against the saltier aged veterans.   
Basic skills. That would be her focus. Taking her time. she slashed at the dummy, feeling the weight of her weapon, the glide of edge meeting dummy. It was an awkward scene but she was determined. No one stopped to correct her, or question her movements. Sweat beaded up upon her face and she felt it slide down the valley of her back. “My darling Herald, I dare say what are you attempting to do to that poor, defenseless dummy?” Dorian’s voice broke her concentration and the sword slipped from her hand, just missing her foot.  
“Maker, Dorian!” she puffed as she struggled to regain her calm, “I am trying to learn to properly defend myself as it seems my magic is useless outside of barriers and healing.”  
Dorian chuckled and walked over beside her, “my dear you can learn to control such thing, I assure you,” he bent down and picked up the sword. Turning it over in his hand he snorted, “you wield your barriers and healing elegantly. This brutish weapon is beneath you.”  
Cassandra grunted as she neared the two, “that brutish weapon will save her life if she can learn to use it correctly,” taking the blade from Dorian, Cassandra raised the pommel to her eyes and gave it a good look over, “this is a hand and a half sword. You require something smaller and more functional.” Reaching over the rack she pulled a shorter sword, “try this one. It is a Fereldan captain’s sword. Lighter, shorter handle and the blade is one of the finest,” handing the sword over to Hyacinth she glared down Dorian, “her magic will only suffice for so much, she must learn to defend herself. If she requires magical instruction, are you willing to teach her?”  
Laughing Dorian twirled his moustache, “but of course Cassandra. She should have only the best instruction and your Southern Circles leave something to be desired,” grinning as Cassandra’s face twisted in disgust he laughed again, “yes, stone cages for such delicate birds never fairs well. Now,” returning his attention to Hyacinth he smiled, “my dear lady, if you wish to work on that little fire trick of yours or learn a few more, I am your intrepid expert. Or you could be bored to death by tales of this Fade trip, that root potion or,” he shuttered, “some discussion of spirits and their hierarchy. I dare say the man can talk for days.”  
Hyacinth snickered, “I appreciate the offer Dorian, perhaps once the Breach is sealed and we are safe I could use some of your teachings. I shall be at the ready and ever eager, I promise,” she smiled as Dorian gave a slight bow and sauntered off. Returning to Cassandra, sword in hand she nodded, “could you perhaps teach me? I know some of the templar drills I was lucky enoughl to see, but beyond that I have never held a sword in my life.”  
Grinning wide Cassandra pulled another similar sword from the rack, “do as I do, and we shall see what we can make of you, lady Herald.”  
Cullen stood upon the training field at a large desk, several people around him, “Rylen will coordinate with the templars in our ranks. We are all Inquisition and the mages are our allies. I will not tolerate any attempts to crowd them. Fights will be harshly punished. Whatever you were before, whatever your beliefs, they matter not now. We are the Inquisition and we are here to seal that Breach,” he pointed at the large rip in the sky, “and to find the one or ones responsible. Fighting amongst ourselves will only slow our progress down and it will result in the potential loss of innocent lives. Rylen will be sure to handle any concerns the templars have. Should you feel there is something with the mages, direct it to Rylen. Concerns must not be based off fear. We need to be ready to march tomorrow to the Breach. We go to lend aid. Demons will be present closer to the Breach, and we will need to ensure the Herald is safe. Once the Breach is sealed we will go over plans moving forward. Be ever at the ready. Dismissed!” he barked his orders with stern command, meeting each eye in the crowd personally. Confident his words got across he began sorting through the stack of papers left on his desk. News about supply routes, a group of missing soldiers in the Fallow Mire, and word that several small groups of templars were seen approaching Haven. Since Hyacinth took on the role of Herald and lent aid to the people of the Hinterlands, they had constant streams of people coming to join the Inquisition ranks. Some, mercifully, had at the least basic skills and training. While others were beyond raw. To seal the Breach, he wanted his best guarding Hyacinth. With the group around him dispersing he could finally look about. Hearing a startled squeal, he perked straight up. Taking several quick steps, he reached the training dummies. Not saying a word, he watched as Hyacinth attacked a dummy with her sword, Cassandra mirroring her efforts, “do not be afraid of the dummy, strike at it with your might. An enemy will not be kind to you.”  
Grunting Cullen relaxed his posture, “Cassandra, has she been training with a dummy all afternoon?”   
Hyacinth startled and dropped the blade to the ground, “Maker!” she shrieked.  
“Yes, she knows basics and shows some promising skill,” she smiled placing her sword back on the rack, “perhaps you may fill in. I have pressing matters and cannot spare another moment.”  
Hyacinth flushed red, “the Commander… But I am not ready for such things.”  
Chuckling softly Cullen took a practice sword from the rack, “I swear I shall not be harsh. Please, my lady, do not hold back. You will not harm me,” he smiled as he stood a few steps from her, “let us see what you know.”  
Counting her breaths, she wanted to be good with a sword, wanted to be able to show him she wasn’t the scared child she had been only a few weeks ago. Gripping the hilt, she remembered Cassandra’s words, the Knight Commander’s rants and nodded, “alright. Forgive me.”  
Cullen didn’t have time to question her apology as she began her assault. Shorter swinging arches he carefully batted away. Her recoveries were quick and she pushed him. It sent a thrill through him to see the focus on her face, brows knit tight as she poured her every ounce of energy into each swing. Batting away a few more swings he noticed a soft grin cross her lips, what could she be thinking? As he readied for another similar movement she changed course. Taking a small arching swing downwards he went to counter when she rolled her wrist and came across his body. Had he not been paying attention she would have landed the swipe. Taking a quick step backward he just dodged the attempt, only to be surprised as she came with a forward thrust. Side stepping the thrust he grinned back, “well played, push harder.”   
Feeling proud of her effort she was wanting to push now. All the training she had absorbed watching templars she was putting to use now. No longer using a broom in the kitchen of the Circle was finally able to put it all to use. Counters and side swipes, she was beaming seeing Cullen’s smile flash for just a moment before he set back into his focus. Now she wanted to win, wanted to best him, even if he was being easy on her. She wanted him to push her harder their next sparring session, she wanted more sparring with him. Acknowledging his words, she smiled, “please fight back a bit, I want to see it.”  
Setting himself into his familiar training stance he licked his lips. Something felt wonderful about toying with her like this. Innocent and yet dangerous. Allowing her to close in again he slapped at her blade, the sound of dull metal against dull metal rang out. Expecting her to shutter he was pleasantly surprised that instead she shifted her weight and countered him. Gliding her blade against his, she turned the flat to swat as his arm. A loud clang rang out as she contacted his pauldrons, “brilliant,” he nearly gushed with enthusiasm, “Cassandra has trained you well this afternoon,” sweat began to grace his skin, his armor and cloak too thick for sparring. Countering another of her blows he decided to press a small attack. As she regrouped her effort he pushed forward. Pulling his strength to not knock her over he swung high. He was surprised with how quickly she met his blade and pushed against him.   
They exchanged careful counters and tentative pushes. Cullen was impressed with her quick skill and natural handling of the sword. Stopping a few times, he corrected a few points here and there. Each correction was quickly absorbed and applied. She was hungry to learn more, to do more, and to be better. Soon their tentative swats and counters were becoming harder and more aggressive.   
Sweat soaked her tunic to her body as she gave her all against him. Trading parries and thrusts as she worked on her footing. Being sure to have a good strong ground under each step. Cullen kept in close, trying to limit her swing range having taken several of her swats. He could tell she was getting frustrated and he was enjoying each moment. Normal sparring with recruits was painful and a waste of his time but this was something more. His blood was beating hard in his veins and he felt powerful. Each push against her, her strength in countering him made him hunger for more, “come at me with everything you have, hurt me,” he growled low as he readied himself.  
Grunting she paused for a moment, “hurt you? I… I can’t…” before she could continue he swatted her hard against the thigh with the flat, nearly knocking her over.  
“If I were your enemy I would have claimed your leg. I can weather your storm, you will not hurt me. You need to attack me with the intent to cause harm, to kill. These blades are safe and you haven’t the strength to pierce my armor. Give me your everything, take me down. Get dirty if you feel you must, this is your life we are aiming to protect,” he growled out, feeling the adrenaline flow through him.   
Rubbing her thigh, she knew he meant well. He meant to keep her safe, to teach her to protect herself, “please tell me if you cannot,” she drew in a breath, “are you ready?”   
Not giving her a word reply he charge her head on. As predicted she side stepped his forward rush and brought the blade up to block his. They danced around each other, pushing harder. Her blows came with more pressure, more power than he thought she was capable of. Each swing she was giving her all, letting out grunts of exertion, and pushing him back successfully. Adrenaline flowed and he became more and more impressed with her skill. Confident she wouldn’t beat him, he held back his full force. Their exchange became fiercer as he continued to provoke her, pushing her into a rage. Rage, she gave him, getting in close he reached out and gripped her wrist. Locking his fingers around she struggled to break his grip. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to get around his strength she let her anger get the better of her. Balling her fist up she took a sloppy swing at his cheek. Connecting her target, she felt his hand loosen and she leapt backwards from him, sweeping her blade she knocked his out of his hand. Standing triumphant she was panting, “I’m sorry, Maker,” she dropped her blade and went to tend to his face.   
Cullen let out a barking laugh as she reached him, her fingers gracing the bruise blooming upon his cheek, “no, no, do not apologize. You did exactly as I asked after all. I did request you hurt me,” chuckling he relished the feel of her soft, warm hand upon his skin, “you are a natural with the sword my lady. I can rest well knowing you can defend yourself.”  
Chuckling she smoothed away the dirt from his cheek as she carefully tended his bruise, “thank you, Commander. It means a great deal to hear that from you. Perhaps we can spar more once the Breach is sealed. I wish to become proficient in this skill, and to have you work with me would be wonderful,” blushing she quickly corrected herself, “I mean, to learn from someone with such skill would mean everything.”  
Closing his eyes and counting his breaths he nodded, “yes, I would be more than pleased to train you. If that is what you wish. But,” he groaned opening his eyes and staring into the horizon. The sun had begun setting behind the mountain peaks and now only the last of the days light was casting down upon them. Soon it would be nightfall and she needed her rest for tomorrow, “my lady, you should wash, eat and rest. We are set to leave for the Breach as early as possible. Thank you,” he smiled feeling his headache and body ache leaving him, “you did not have to go so far.”  
Smiling she let out a chuckle, “I did strike your cheek. I feel guilty for allowing my anger to get the best of me. You did not deserve such harshness, even if you begged for it.”  
“Begged!?” he half choked out as she took a step back, “sweet Maker, I did not beg.”  
Thrown into a fit of giggle Hyacinth shook her head, “you are adorable when you are flustered,” quickly regretting her statement she thrust her hand over her face, “I… uh… I’ll see you later.” Rushing back towards her hut, her face hot and cheeks flushed scarlet she didn’t stop till she was safe within the four walls and behind her door. Feeling sure she was out of his sight she started laughing, wiping the sweat from her brow upon her sleeve she realized her shirt was soaked with sweat. Glad to see the tub still had water in it she stripped down and using her magic reheated the bath.   
Cullen couldn’t help but grin widely for the rest of the evening as he went about the last of his tasks. Her effort today was glorious. Were she not a mage she may make a great swordsman one day. It had been a long time since he’d met anyone with such natural skill. Feeling light as air he decided to take a long jog around Haven before retiring for the evening. Icy cold mountain air helped calm his body but did little for his mind. All he could think about was her. The furrow upon her brow as she focused on each arch of her swing. How her eyes softened as she caressed his cheek. Letting out a groan he stopped along the path. Facing Haven, across the frozen pond he sighed. It was his duty to keep her safe, to lead the Inquisition army and to make sure they sealed the Breach. He couldn’t permit these feels to creep in and yet they were. Against everything he was trying to do he was starting to have feelings for her. She was more than the Herald, more than a mage, and it frustrated him that he was losing control over his emotions. Counting each puff, he tried to steady his breathing, to regain control of himself. For now, he had to put these feelings aside. Perhaps once the danger passed he may yet speak his feelings to her. With that thought and resolve he drew in a deep breath and began jogging back to Haven.   
Everything was stiff and sore as she groaned leaning up in bed, the morning light just barely edging over the mountain peaks. It would be a long march to the Breach, at least several hours. Stretching her upper body, she dressed warmly for the march and prepared a small medical bag. Being sure to be available for whatever may befall them at the Breach she retied her hair and headed towards the gate. Soldiers and mages already gathered awaiting the order to march.  
“The Herald is with us, we march to save Thedas!” Commander Cullen’s voice rang out over the group as they began walking down the path.   
Upon the walk, she talked at length with Solas, huddled close and whispering. Trying to figure out the best course of action once they reached the Breach. Everything seemed straightforward as they discussed her mark. Being sure no one could hear their conversation, she spoke of her most recent dreams and how she desperately wished to speak with Cullen. How wrong it felt to know this horrible truth he held. Solas reassured her that this should pass with the sealing of the Breach.   
Keeping pace with the marching force she was pleased they made good time. What should have taken them till midafternoon was just a bit after the noon risen sun. Staring up at the phosphorescent fissure she felt her nerves creep through her pores. Each step forward her legs wobbled. She couldn’t even hear Cassandra and Solas yelling out orders to the mages and Inquisition forces. All she could hear was her heart beating in her ears and the steady thrum of the Breach pulsing through her veins.   
Everything around her droned out into emptiness, as she stood beneath it. Tingling warmth rippled across her skin as she braced her feet and began lifting the mark to face it. Magic energy pulled from her core and shot out of the mark towards the Breach. Solas yelled out to the mages and they began pooling their energy just above her and naturally the mark drew it in and redirected it up towards the giant scar. Arcane magic swirled and wrapped around the Breach, as it had with the smaller rifts it began sealing it. Hyacinth felt her knees buckle and her head was light. Feeling the urge come upon her she pulled her arm back with all her might. As her hand closed, the Breach sealed with a thunderous clap. Air rushed down and knocked Hyacinth over, sending her skidding a few feet back.   
“Lady Trevelyan!” Blackwall bellowed as he shoved his way through, “Lady Trevelyan, are you with us?” carefully he lifted her up.  
Cullen watched Blackwall cradled her in his arms and tenderly helped her to her feet. He couldn’t help the stabbing ache in his heart. Foolishly wanting to be the one to hold her tight, how could he feel this way? Turning away he signalled to his men to return to Haven. Taking a final look up at the sky he was relieved to see the Breach sealed and only a faint glowing scar left thrumming in it’s place.   
Her head ached and her backside was sore from the impact. Blackwall’s tender touch kept her steady, “thank you Ser Blackwall. I believe I shall recover on my own,” taking a few tentative steps she was comfortable her legs would hold her weight. People all around were cheering and clapping. Mages hugging templars and templars hugging mages as they proceeded to make the journey back to Haven.   
Heading back to Haven took far less time then heading to the Breach. It seemed merriment and excitement drove the group onward. Several people laughed and thanked her as they raced back to Haven. Nearing the village as the daylight waned they could hear cheering and music playing loudly. Groups of men and women broke rank to rush forward and join in the celebration.   
Hyacinth politely excused herself and quietly walked towards her hut. Body aching and head pounding she just wanted to find a moment of solace, “lady Trevelyan,” his baritone voice was soft behind her.  
“Commander Cullen, good evening,” she let out a weak smile, “I hadn’t expected you to find me. Should you not be celebrating with your men? This is quite the success for the Inquisition.”  
His cheeks bloomed and his chest felt hot, “I… uh… I wished to check on you. Sealing the Breach must have been quite the effort. Do you feel well? Do you require any aid or assistance, my lady?”  
“My head is throbbing and my backside took a thump but I shall endure. I appreciate you coming to check on me,” she chuckled as she nervously tucked a section of loose hair behind her ear, “do you suppose we could speak in private? Now is as good a time as any.”  
Fumbling with his words Cullen resorted to nodding and following Hyacinth. Walking through the large front gate and up the path she got in close to him, making his heart beat faster in his chest, “I have a secret,” she spoke softly, “my healing was altered by the arcane magics of the Breach and this,” she held up her glowing hand, “it seems when I heal people, I…” fumbling with her sleeve she nibbled her cheek, “I have dreams at night, of their memories. Sometimes good memories and other times things that are upsetting to them.”  
Cullen started choking on his air, “Maker… what…”   
As he fumbled to find words, his own shame and fear creeping in a horn blew in the distance. Turning his head, he reacted on instinct, “stay here,” drawing his blade he raced to the gate.  
Frozen in her place, afraid to move she looked around as people scurried and ran about. Cassandra came up to her, “follow me to the gate, we must keep you safe.”  
Racing along the stone path, dodging civilians running for cover, “what is going on?” Hyacinth was scared as they reached the front gates.   
“There’s a large army marching towards Haven,” Cullen pointed out over the gates. Torch light dotted the winter landscape, a massive horde of people marching rapidly towards them.  
“Under who’s banner do they attack?” Josephine began nervously wringing her handkerchief.   
“None,” Cullen’s voice was flat as he looked over to Hyacinth, “we need to…”  
“Open, please, I cannot come in unless you open,” a soft voice broke through the gate.  
Not hesitating Hyacinth raced forward and opened the gate only to let out a startled shriek. Just shy of her a giant of a man slumped to his knees, large axes in his hands tumbled to the ground before he followed. A young lad with an oversize hat was panting hard, two gleaming daggers drenched in blood held firmly in his hands. “I’ve come to warn you,” he gasped trying to catch his breath, “the Elder One is angry you took his mages from him. Do you know the Elder One? He knows you,” the boy turned and pointed out into the mountain tops with his blade, fresh blood wicking away from the tip to splatter along the ground.  
Cullen gripped Hyacinth’s shoulders and looked out to where the boy pointed, “Maker… Samson?” pulling her back inside the gates he barked out to the soldiers around him, “everyone within the walls! Men, mages you have permission to engage. That man up there is Samson, he was a templar and he will not go easy on you. Together, for the Herald, for your lives!” he bellowed the warriors cheering as they drew their weapons.  
“I need a sword,” Hyacinth mumbled as she raced back to the training yard. Seeing soldiers grabbing full steel swords from a rack, she managed to get in close and grab a sword herself. Counting her breathes she steadied her fingers to loop the sheath into her belt. Comfortable she grabbed a small buckler shield before turning straight into Blackwall, “my lady, you should head to the Chantry. We will get the trebuchets firing again.”  
“No, I must stand with these people. I can fight!” she shook her head and drew her sword, “for Haven!” she yelled and rushed over to the nearest trebuchet. Blackwall’s foot steps were heavy behind her.   
“My lady!” he yelled, “sparring with the Commander is not the same as striking down an enemy. You are not trained enough yet to face an attack!” he protested loudly as he raced to get beside her.   
Not listening to a word, she drove in head first, stabbing a man dressed in templar robes through his shoulder as he attempted to slash an Inquisition soldier, “I will not lose my people! Not again,” she grunted as she smashed him off her blade with the shield.   
Blackwall was joined by Cassandra and Dorian as they helped hold off the enemy while Inquisition forces fired off trebuchet rounds into the hills, causing minor avalanches, burying sections of the attacking army. “Drive them back, we’ve got this,” Blackwall yelled out as the last bolt flew from the trebuchet.  
Cheers erupted as they continued to fend off the enemy, seeing portions of the mountainside come cascading down. Cheers that were premature as a low growl tore through the skies, “that… it can’t be…” Cassandra gasped as they raced back from the trebuchet. With the roar came a blast of fire and red crystal scattering across the trebuchet, setting it ablaze.   
“Get to the Chantry,” Cullen screamed over the clatter of battle.  
Hyacinth bend down and healed the injured leg of the trebuchet handler before running towards Cullen, “can we survive this?”  
“The Chantry building is the only thing that can even hope to withstand, whatever that is,” he grunted in frustration, “at this point… make them work for it.” Aiding people as he went, he cut a path for pilgrims and civilians to get to safety.   
Hyacinth heard a yell coming from her hut and rushed off towards it. Fire was beginning to eat away the thatching of her hut. Pushing on the door it wouldn’t budge, frustrated she forced her energy out and burst the door open. Laying trapped from the waist down under a fallen beam was the young serving girl she had seen the day before, “I’m here to help,” knowing the beam would be impossible to lift she had to focus her magic on energizing the wood and lifting it with her energy. Focusing with everything she had she wrapped her magic around the beam and heaved it off the woman, “are you injured?”  
“My leg, ma’am, my leg,” she winced in pain struggling to move towards the door.  
“Hold still, it’ll only take a second,” sheathing her sword she raised her hand casting a barrier around them to hold back the fire, “I have you,” reaching with her other hand she gently touched the woman’s leg and began mending the torn ligaments and fractured bone, “a few more seconds.”  
“I can move, we need to get out of here my lady,” the woman began to panic and pull herself to her feet as flaming tinder bounced off the barrier.  
“Run, to the Chantry. Stop for nothing,” Hyacinth nodded as she helped her to the door. Once clear she released the barrier and drew her sword. People were running frantically and she spotted an Inquisition templar staring down several armed foes, “I am coming to lend aid,” she shouted, drawing the attention of Solas and Sera. Arrows whizzed past her head as she raced forward shield and sword at the ready.   
“Ma’am please you must get to safety, we cannot lose our Herald,” the female templar implored even as she was being over run.  
“No, I will not leave another to die,” swatting a sword away she plunged it into the exposed belly of the man before her, “we can handle these together!”  
More arrows pebbled the enemies as lightning and ice swirled around those coming over the wall before them, “hurry, they are thinning, head to the Chantry.”  
“The tavern keep Fissa hasn’t been seen, nor the herbalist Adan,” the woman yelled back, “I’m Lysette, thank you.”  
“Run!” Hyacinth smashed the next man across the face with her shield, slashing his throat as he spun, “I will find them!” Pushing through she raced down the path to the tavern. Hearing a woman scream she slammed her shoulder into the door. Fire surrounded her on all sides, “Fissa?” she yelled.   
“Help, Maker please,” Fissa cried out tears rolling down her cheeks, “I don’t want to die.”  
Casting a wide barrier, it snuffed out fire along the floor, “come towards me, then take the path and run as fast as you can to the Chantry. Do not stop!”  
Fissa didn’t hesitate as she scampered past Hyacinth. Wiping at her brow, sweat and soot sticking to her pale skin she pushed on up the pathway towards the healer huts.   
“Help, the kegs are going to blow!” a woman’s voice screamed, “Adan is trapped in the burning building!”   
“I have the woman, save Adan,” Varric’s voice burst out beside her. Without uttering a word, she forced the door in and using the same barrier as before she pulled Adan out. Rushing around the corner to the back half of the hut she led him up the path toward the Chantry. As they reached the blacksmith hut the kegs exploded behind them, “get to the Chantry,” she grunted pushing Adan forward.  
“Help please, I need in the hut please!” the blacksmith was frantically trying to enter the hut.  
Forcing her energy out again she burst the door open, “hurry! Get to the Chantry!”  
“No worries ma’am, I ain’t going to die trying to save the forge. Thank you.”  
She could see the building before them, sweat covering her body, ash and blood thick in the air, “you won’t take me you bastards!” a woman stood surrounded by the enemy forces. Hyacinth charged ahead, Cassandra, Blackwall, Varric, Solas, Dorian, Sera and Vivenne stood at the ready to defend the woman. Cullen ushered Hyacinth in the building waving his arm, “hurry get inside!” Far too tired to argue she half limped over to the door, Cullen dragged her inside.   
Sheathing her blade, she began breathing heavily, “what is the odds? Can we… will we…”  
Shaking his head, he groaned, “we don’t have the forces to subdue that dragon. Haven isn’t a fortress and we’re exposed. We have one option left, aim the last trebuchet at the peak of the mountain and bury Haven in one last assault.”  
Hyacinth’s heart sank in her chest, “I won’t kill these people. There has to be a way.”  
“There is,” the young boy from the gate was pulling in Roderick, blood on his lips, “he took a sword to the stomach, he’s dying.” Placing him down upon the chair by the door he turned back to Hyacinth, “the Elder One, he is angry. He has come here for you.”  
Carefully she looked over at Cullen, “then if it will save these people I will go to him, he may have me.”  
Cullen’s face lit up with rage. Before he could get a word in the boy waved his hand, “no, he will destroy Haven either way. He will crush everything because he can,” looking back over to Roderick he cocked his head, “yes that will work. He wishes to speak before he passes.”  
Sputtering a mouth full of blood Roderick’s pale face turned to Hyacinth, “the Maker must have done this. I remember now. The summer pilgrimage I took as a young lad. I was one of the last ones,” pointing towards the war room he coughed hard, “we can take the path and be clear of Haven. I’m so sorry,” the boy helped him too his feet and he laid a heavy hand upon Hyacinth’s shoulder, “I was wrong about you. You are the Herald of Andraste, I should have believed it sooner. Maker please forgive me,” he choked up and spat blood upon the floor.  
“Hurry get him to lead the people out,” Hyacinth gripped the hilt of her blade, “if he wants me, then I’ll distract him, give you all time to flee.”  
Cullen reached out and grabbed Hyacinth’s arm, “what of you? You can’t…”  
“If the Maker chose me, then I will find a way. I have faith He will see me through. You owe me a good long chat, and a hug, Commander,” a tear slipped down her cheek, “take care of them, we’ll see each other soon.”  
Tears stung his eyes, refusing to give in to their pull he bit his tongue and nodded. Turning back to his men he began barking orders, “these two men will set the trebuchet, you need only calibrate it. Rotate the large wheel at its base. I shall send up a signal to alert you we have cleared the tree line. Then let the bolt fly. Maker watch over you, my lady,” not wanting to linger he turned to help people towards the pilgrim path.


	8. Irises Pushing Through the Snow

Closing the doors behind herself, Hyacinth looked over the burning buildings. Tents and huts once thriving with life, ablaze and melting. Wiping at the sweat upon her brow she pulled a lyrium potion from her pouch. Knocking it back quickly she tossed the glass flask to the side. Racing down the steps she encountered surprisingly few enemies. Reaching the trebuchet, she began spinning the wheel. Once she felt good about the position she waited. Eerie silence encompassed her. Shuttering under the cold air she looked around, “if you want me, here I am, Elder One!” she shouted into the night air. Only her echoing voice returned to her. “Count your breathes,” she repeated trying to steady her heart. It would be near the same as Redcliffe. At least a hundred breathes before they were clear of the tree line.  
Wings flapped above the smoke-filled sky. In vain she tried to figure out where the flapping came from, to brace for the attack she knew was coming. It was pointless to draw her sword, instead she held out her hands ready to cast a barrier when the dragon showed itself. Sticking near the trebuchet she heard the roar break the silence. Just reacting in time, she threw herself to the side as the creature snarled and breathed it potent flaming breath. Rolling away from the trebuchet she gnashed her teeth, “what are you?” she grunted getting to her feet. Bone like wings fluttered and tucked behind the lizard creature. Red crystals gleamed and glinted in the flicking flame light along it’s body. Misshapen hunks fused into the scaly body, “a dragon?”   
“You!” a crushing voice broke the tension. Coming from under one of the dragon’s wings appeared a tall figure. Impossibly tall as his head was near shoulder height with the dragon. No mortal man, Qunari, or elf she had ever heard of would come close to the size of the thing before her. Truly a thing as well. It spoke with a mortal voice but it’s body was distorted. Long black robes slashed and charred, hung from the skeletal frame. Sinew thin arms ended in claw like appendages. Feathers from a dark bird hung about it’s neck like Cullen’s mantle. These feathers were charred, dirty and half missing. Its trunk was a twist wreck of metal, bone and red crystal. Whatever armor it was, it looked as if it had been burned and melted into the creature’s core. As it stepped closer, flames lit its face. Chalky skin stretched and molded over a jagged piece of red crystal at the jawline, gave the face a menacing appearance.   
Shock broke her focus as she lost count of her breathes. Cursing softly, she needed to buy time. Launching the bolt too early would kill her people, burying them under thousands of pounds snow and ice. Looking around she slowly, she caught sight of a mine shaft on the other side of the trebuchet. All she needed now was the signal. “Who are you? Why do you want me?” she yelled out at the creature.  
Cackling the looming ragged mass took several strides forward, “I have come here for that which you have stolen, interloper,” it reached behind itself and pulled out an orb. Holding the orb out it began charging it with energy, “the process of removing the anchor begins, now.”  
Energy shot forth from the orb, hovering above the outstretched hand of the creature before her. Twitching and pulsing her marked hand flared to life, echoing the energy from the orb. Pain flared and shot up through her arm and caused the air to burst from her chest. Dropping to her knees, her hand began twisting and contorting against the magical pull. Each flick of muscle and tendon echoed a staggering pain back through her body. Fighting hard against the pull, against the pain she tried to heal herself as the creature let out a growling grunt, “the anchor is permanent, you have spoiled it with your touch.” Barely able to lift her head she was vaguely aware of the heavy foot steps coming towards her. Unable to move she was powerless as the creature gripped her in it’s hand. A hand that encompassed her whole forearm as it heaved her up to it’s eye level. Feet dangling in the air and shoulder screaming in pain she tried to focus, “what do you want?”  
“You assume I want anything at all. I am Corypheus, the highest priest of Dumat. You stole the anchor from me and have used it to seal my rifts. The gall,” his voice snorted out, “I have seen the throne of the Maker and it was empty,” his voice rose as he held her above the ground, “I would reach the Black City and take its power to become a God. A God the people deserve,” letting a twisted laugh pass his lips he sighed, “I require nothing more from you, but I cannot permit a whelp like you to live,” with a might whip of his wrist he tossed her against the trebuchet.  
Slamming hard against the wood and steel strapped reinforced legs of the trebuchet, her vision blurred and she had to blink hard to keep herself present. Praying she stood up and drew her blade, “you want to become a God? You arrogant…” looking up in the sky she saw the light of a flaming arrow soar into the darkness. Her signal they were safe. Laughing as she wiped blood from her mouth she stared down the monster, “your arrogance will be your undoing. Enjoy your reward,” kicking with all her might she nailed the lever sending the bolt soaring up into the peak of the mountain top. Not wasting a moment, she raced towards the mine shaft. Casting out a barrier around herself she dove into the hole.   
Boots laden with snow pushed through, thighs screaming against the rate he drove himself forward. They needed to set up a camp here, he needed to start the search for her. Looking over his shoulder he watched as the snow rushed down the side of the mountain and washed Haven away. The dragon creature taking to the air and disappearing just before the snow crushed the tiny village. His mouth ran dry and his palms began to sweat. Trying to push past his own concerns he began ordering the campsite to be set up. There was injured people to deal with, they would need food, water and shelter if they were to survive the night. Needing to busy himself he began clamping down on everything and everyone.  
“Commander,” Cassandra’s voice called out, “you are pushing yourself and everyone else too hard,” touching his shoulder she pulled him aside, “we must have faith the Maker will see this through.”  
“I need to be out there, looking for her,” his voice cracked and his hands shook, “she…”  
Cassandra nodded and took his hands in hers, “my friend, the Maker works in mysterious ways. Take a moment, we have much work to secure the people here. Once we do, then we can go out and search for her. I shall be right by your side.”  
Gritting his teeth, he simply squeezed her hands. Words choked in his throat and his eyes stung.   
Coughing violently Hyacinth shuddered as she pulled her body out of the snow. Casting fire in her palm she searched where she was, “mine shaft…” panting she felt terrible. Everything hurt and she was exhausted and frozen. Picking up some loose wood she made a small fire, “best to warm myself before I try to move. Heal up as well.” Focusing on her wounds she dealt with the serious issues and reserved her energy. Feeling her body calm she looked around, “guess I’ll have to move and look around. At least I’m alive.” Warm and dry she gripped a large piece of wood and lit the end. Walking slowly down the sculpted stone corridor felt a breeze blow across her face, “ah blessed fresh air, thank the Maker!”   
After walking for what easily felt like a couple hours she reached the opening. Freezing wind swirled across the frozen mountain side, blowing loose powder snow around. Shivering Hyacinth pulled her robes tightly across herself and wrapped her bandages around her ears and head to keep her heat in. Taking her first step she sunk to her thighs in snow. Letting out a sharp yelp she pushed forward. Wind blowing the fine snow made her visual range limited. Light from a burning bit of wagon pulled her forward. Reaching the burning wreck, she hunkered down to warm herself near the flame. Looking around she prayed she was heading in the right direction. Taking a bold step forward she found a blanket in the wagon. Heating it over the flame for a moment she wrapped herself and pushed forward.  
Cullen paced back and forth, “we need fires, they need to be able to warm everyone in the camp through the night!” he bellowed as people rushed around trying to appease him. Taking in a deep breath he looked over the pass, the tree line and blowing snow made it impossible to see down below them. Trying not to think the worse he turned his back to the wind and began collecting supplies. If she was out there, she would be freezing on this cold night. Blankets, he’d need a couple blankets.   
Pushing through hip deep snow she reached the tree line. Teeth chattering, she prayed it was the right tree line. They would have headed to higher ground and she too would need to get about this tree line if only to hope to find her bearings. Using the trees to pull herself up the hill she was beginning to sweat. From her readings, she knew she was in trouble. With wet clothes in the freezing cold she was at a very high risk of freezing to death. There was no choice she had to keep moving. Everything screamed in agony as she pulled herself up the hill. Barely a speck up the mountain side she could see fire. Gripping onto hope she pushed forward, each step feeling heavier and more exhausting than the last.   
Fires roared and men were busy gathering more wood, boiling water in large metal pots. Luckily for them the spot Roderick lead them too was an abandoned and dilapidated ruin. Wood, pots, some chairs, torn banners and linens were scavenged from surrounding crumbled buildings. Making use of whatever they could find the managed to make themselves comfortable. Satisfied the bulk of the people were tended to Cullen packed what he could into a shoulder bag. A few of the nicer blankets, some rations and medical supplies all carefully placed in order. Slinging the bag across his chest he looked down over the mountain one more time. In the darkness he squinted hard, hoping his eyes would find some trace of her. Scanning over the area he thought he saw something moving. Rubbing his eyes and blinking hard he couldn’t help but get excited, “Cassandra!” he yelled rushing over to her, “I’m confident I’ve spotted her!”   
“We must hurry, the cold will claim her before much longer,” Cassandra held a torch in her hand and set off with Cullen down the side.  
Shaking violently, she tried to push onwards. It was a small mercy the feeling in her limbs was gone. Her magic was keeping them alive, if only till someone could find her. Staring up into the sky, brilliant twinkling gems danced in the clear darkness, “please Maker, please,” she begged, her lips dry and cracking. Stumbling she tumbled to the ground, face first into the snow. Only managing to get back to her knees she started to cry. How cruel a fate. To save so many, to come so close and to lose everything with this monster on the loose. Eyes barely open she looked up trying to see through blurred vision, “Cullen…” her raspy throat barely uttering the words.  
“Hyacinth!” his voice yelled as he pushed through the snow, “I’m here, hold on!”   
Letting out a weak laugh she tried to get to her feet, tired and weak she slipped down again, “help… Cullen….”   
Diving onto his knees he quickly pulled items from the bag. Half wrapping her body in a couple blanket he held her tight, “I’m here, we’ll get you warm again. Please hang on,” he touched her face, skin blanched and icy cold, “no…” he grumbled as he tugged his glove off to lay a warm hand upon her face, “Cassandra, she’s breathing but it’s very shallow. We need a healer, fast.”  
“Carry her, I will clear the path,” lowering her shield down she scooped at the snow, trying to make an easier climb back to their campsite.   
Cullen cradled her close to his chest. She needed warmth, and they could get that to her at the campsite, “Cullen,” her voice was hoarse and barely a whisper but it was enough to catch his ear. Bending his face close to her he whispered in her ear, “I have you. You cannot get out of our discussion so easy, lady Trevelyan.” Half a mumble passed her lips and he struggled to hear, “Hyacinth, I could not hear you. Do not waste your energy my lady, please you need your strength.” With the path cleared he could muster a half run up the hill. Cassandra pushed ahead of him, yelling out orders. People rushed at a make shift tent area, securing blankets and preparing bandages. Cullen refused to pass her to the open arms of await healers, “I will take her, where have you prepared?” he pushed past several stern face people as Mother Gisele guided him towards a single cot inside a tent, “this way young man.”  
Passing through the tent flaps he knelt and let her slip from his hands. Mother Gisele quickly tugged on his cloak, “please, let the healers do their work. I shall keep you informed.”  
“If you require anything, anything at all I shall be waiting outside,” taking one last look over at Hyacinth he stepped outside the flaps.   
Leliana hugged Josephine tightly, “breath Josie, it’s over now.”  
“No, no it is not,” Josephine trembled in her arms, tears slowing trailing down her cheeks, “I… I may never sleep again. The fire, the people…”  
“Hush Josie, all will be alright,” Leliana carefully stroked her hair, “Cullen found the Herald, she is in Mother Gisele’s care now. Maker willing, she will pull through this.”  
“Has anyone seen to Cullen? He must be lost right now,” Josephine let out a weak sniffle as she dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.   
Leliana looked over her shoulder at the tent housing their Herald. Cullen was pacing back and forth, hands clasped tightly in prayer as his lips mumbled silently to himself, “he’s been pacing for a couple hours now. I dare not disturb him, not now.”  
Mother Gisele threw open the flaps of the tent, “Commander, a word if you may,” she waved him to the side. Meeting him she lowered her voice, “we are blessed she was able to continue to heal herself from the cold. She will not lose any limbs, but she is weak. Your name was on her lips. She needs a good reason to fight, I would recommend you stay with her for a while, speak to her if you can,” she smiled knowingly as Cullen blushed.  
“I… I shall go in now, Revered Mother,” he calmed himself enough to push forward, his legs felt boneless as he carefully peeled back the flap and ducked inside. It was warm inside the little tent, hot embers from a fire sitting in a large pot fueled the heat. Snow had melted away to expose the remains of a stone floor beneath the cot. Closing the flaps tight he turned to a wooden stool near her bed and sat down. She was covered in blankets, only her fair, pale face stuck out, “lady Trevelyan,” his voice cracked as he spoke, “I… you just finished telling me you shared my nightmares before Haven fell…” he reached for her hand over the blankets, “if you have seen what I have been through… I… I have never spoken of these things. To anyone. Not then and until you saw them yourself, no one knew. I have carried the burden alone for far too long. “  
“Cullen…” she mumbled, eyes barely opening, “Cullen…”  
“I’m here,” he squeezed the form of her arm over the blanket, “can you hear me?” leaning closer he rested his elbows on the edge of the cot, “what can I do for you, please tell me.”  
A weak cough broke her lips, freshly cracking the delicate skin causing a drop of crimson to bubble up, “are… you… upset… with….”  
“Stop, Maker stop,” he dropped his head to the bed and choked back the tears, “no, I could never, no.” Emotions overwhelmed him. Fighting back the sobs he’d held too long he didn’t raise his head, instead he began mumbling prayers. Long held back prayers. Each word uttered to the Maker seemed to carry the weigh from his shoulders. After several choked out passages the tears he fought so hard against slipped from his eyes. Shoulders shuttered as years of anguish, self loathing and denial finally found their bitter release. Movement in the bed went unnoticed as he wept. Finger tips tenderly wrapped around his hands. Trying to stifle himself he pulled his glove off. Wiping away tears he gripped her hand tightly, the cold already gone and replaced with warmth. “Maker, I have made a mess. Forgive my foolishness.”   
Trying to move she weakly gripped his hand as tight as she could must, “no…” holding him firmly she half smiled, “human…” unable to stay alert any longer she slipped into sleep.  
Standing he smiled, “rest my lady, we shall have that talk when you are well enough. I owe you many thanks,” wiping his face and pulling his gloves on he exited the tent. Keeping his head down he marched away from the camp, to a secluded area. Sitting on a section of broken stone he gazed out over the valley. Smoke still rose from Haven, the tall peak of the Chantry barely stood above the snow. Broken bodies, weapons, debris from building mixed with the snow. Patches of red bloomed still as the moon illuminated the catastrophe. Yet another catastrophe he barely walked away from. Reaching in his pocket he rubbed at the small coin.   
Night gave way to morning as the camp struggled to stabilize itself. Healers worked through the night tending to those who suffered during the escape. Cullen couldn’t sleep, spending the night maintaining fires, bringing what supplies he could to those who needed it and when Mother Gisele found him at first light she directed him to Hyacinth’s tent.   
“Cullen,” her voice was hoarse. Propped up into a sit, still covered in multiple blankets she smiled to see him, “how you are today?”  
Chuckling he took a seat by her side, “it has been a long night. Do not worry for me. How do you feel?”   
“Sore, very sore,” she reached for his hand, “the healers say there won’t be any permanent damage. I would agree, my injuries were lesser than expected. I plan to walk out of this tent to aid those in need before midafternoon.” Smiling she pulled his hand closer to her, “but you came to see me, and I have been worried for you since we spoke last. You aren’t upset with me?”  
Shaking his head, he let a brief smile cross his lips, “No, my lady. I wanted to thank you. I have never been able to speak of what happened to me. It makes things simpler to have someone who understands what I have been through. I still cannot speak of it,” hanging his head he sighed.   
“To have gone through all you experienced I am in awe of you,” she blushed softly, colour that was welcoming to see, “how do you manage to go through your day? Lesser men would have never survived.”  
Now it was Cullen who blushed, “my lady I am not special.”  
Rubbing her thumb over his hand she gave her head a soft shake, “no, you are, you just don’t see it. I wanted to thank you, for finding me. If you hadn’t come along when you did…”  
“No, don’t,” he pulled his hands back sharply, trying to fight the feeling bubbling in his chest, “you should rest. We can speak in length once you are well and we are safe. Cassandra, Josephine and Leliana are struggling to formulate a plan to move forward. I should be there.” How he wanted to stay. Every nerve in his body pulled towards her, tugging at him to keep her safe, to speak the words his heart was singing in his ears.   
“Oh, I’m sorry,” her face fell. All she wanted was for him to stay with her. Pulling the blankets up around her chest tightly she snuggled back into the bed, “I… perhaps you will have time for me later?”  
“As you wish my lady,” he grinned before rising and heading towards the exit, “please, get some rest.”  
Solas slipped past Cullen giving him a nod before entering the tent, “Hyacinth, may I have a moment of your time?”  
“Solas! Of course, please sit with me,” trying to cheer herself up she shuffled in her spot, “what do you have in mind?”  
Settling onto the stool he sat tall, “we are in the middle of no where. Our ranks shaken, the faithful questioning everything. To face this new threat, the Inquisition needs direction. It needs a place to grow and be nurtured to the power it will need to face this Elder One. You have been leading the way, even if it does not feel so. You must rise from this bed and lead them to a new home. I know of a place, not far from here. About a half days travel. If you were to scout ahead and lead them, their faith could be restored, strengthen our ranks and no longer question their goals.”   
“How will I manage all of that?” pulling the blankets down she struggled to stand, “I am not strong enough yet.”  
Waving his hand Solas, magic streamed through her body mending her sore tendons, muscles and ligaments, “you will be well enough and rest will find you at our destination; Skyhold.”  
Standing tall she flexed her toes, “alright, if it will help then I will do whatever I can. Where do I go?”  
“Scout to the north, over the pass. You shall see Skyhold, I will be there to guide you.” Solas rose from his seat, “Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine and Cullen have been arguing all day in the heart of the camp. Warm clothes are here for you. When you are ready, we shall head out.”  
Hyacinth watched as Solas calmly walked away, not making a sound in his wake. Dressing into the warm clothes and new boots she carefully poked her head out of the tent. Sullen faces sat everywhere as people tried to make the best of things. It was a dire sight to behold. Walking through the camp she could hear the others fighting loudly.   
“We must procure supply lines,” Josephine yelled.  
Throwing a log into the fire, sending sparks into the air Cullen growled, “and how are we to do that when we have no idea where we are!”  
“That’s not what she meant and you know it!” Leliana screamed back at him.  
“Please, this is getting us no where!” Cassandra tossed her hands in the air.  
“Perhaps, I can help,” Hyacinth’s voice grew stronger as she approached. People gathered round, whispering happy chatter, “I know where we need to go. I can take us there.”  
Cullen stood shocked, “lady Trevelyan, you should be in bed resting. You are not well enough to take on such a task.”  
Raising her hand, she turned back to the women, “please. It is a half day by foot. I can scout ahead with one of Leliana’s fastest and we can begin moving there immediately.”  
Leliana looked back to Josephine, “get Baker, we have no other options right now. Lady Trevelyan,” she smiled sweetly, “are you able to go now? It is mid morning, we may have time if we hurry.”   
Nodding Hyacinth watched as Cullen snorted his discontent and disappeared near a row of tents. Before she could utter a word, Leliana pulled her close and began pouring over the details of the trip.   
Several hours of hiking through the wintery pass to reach the top of the ridge showed their goal. A sprawling Keep, with massive draw bridge hanging over the tops of the largest peak. Excited she nearly danced, “there, there it is!”   
Solas chuckled warmly, “yes, that is Skyhold. It has been abandoned for quite some time now and yearns for someone to claim it. I believe the Inquisition will mature and develop nicely there.”  
Cullen paced back and forth barking orders for men to begin packing up and prepare to move. Getting those able enough to move was a hassle as they began to set off. His head began to pound, lack of sleep and food beginning to take its toll as he paused to let a wave of nausea wash over him. Meeting with Mother Gisele he got the run down of how hard it would be to get the wounded moving. After a brief chat, he wandered off by the tree line and unable to control it anymore he wretched. Hands shaking, he barely held himself up against the large tree.   
Hyacinth walked back with Solas as a small group of scouts moved forward and began working on establishing a foot hold in their new home. Rushing back, she went looking for the wounded, trying to aid as many as she could she scanned the crowd for Cullen. Not seeing him anywhere she forced her way through the crowd she met with Mother Gisele, “Revered Mother, have you by any chance seen the Commander?”  
Mother Gisele seemed genuinely shocked, “he came to me asking about the wounded and that was the last time I spoke with him.”  
Panic started to set in thanking Mother Gisele she continued her search. Not far from where she has spoken to Mother Gisele she saw a pair of boots near the tree line. Rushing forward she found Cullen face down in the snow. Quickly rolling him over she touched his face, “Cullen, Cullen! Don’t you do this to me!” Forcing her magic into him she began healing, “the Inquisition needs you, I need you.”  
Gasping and coughing loudly he sat up, “Maker, what… Hyacinth?”  
Without saying another word, she hugged him tightly. Brushing the snow from his hair she leaned back, “what is wrong with you? You are not well and you haven’t been well since we met. Maker, please let me help you.”  
Blushing Cullen tried to bring himself to his feet, “I… we can discuss it later. We need to move to Skyhold.” Standing he took a moment to regain control of his body, and could will himself forward, “my lady we must move if we are to arrive before nightfall.”  
Not sure how to take his bravado she knew he was right. Were they to stay out here at night, alone without provisions they would surely freeze to death, “then I request you stay by my side. It would be best for us both. You may keep an eye on me and I may ensure you are well.”  
Together they made the trek to Skyhold in virtual silence. Hyacinth found comfort in hearing his boots rhythmically beat against the packed snow. Each step bringing them closer to Skyhold, closer to protecting the people she fought so hard for. If only Cullen would trust her enough to open up about his sickness.   
Arriving at Skyhold she wanted to say something to him, wanted to tell him what she was beginning to feel in her heart, but before she could get a single word out Cullen was quickly whisked away. Off to aid in seeing up living areas, supplies, coordinate his men and more. Letting a quiet sorrowful sigh pass her lips she was caught up in a rush of people. Waves of people, some injured, others looking to help. Hands filled with rubble, wood, blankets and tent components as all of Skyhold seemed alive. “How is this place not so cold?” she mused as she stared up at the portcullis over head.   
“It’s old elven magic,” Solas’s voice was soft and comforting as he stood beside her, “there is much work to do, but this place is impressive.”  
Walking together they passed through the gates and into the main courtyard. Tents set up along a wall, make shift stands along another, all while people busied themselves, “how did you know of such a place? This is amazing!”   
“I dreamt of this place when we were out in the wilds. Spirits guided me and told me of the name, Skyhold. I believed it would be more than adequate for the Inquisition,” he smiled brightly.  
“Thank you so much Solas, this is beautiful. Truly a shame it seems to have sat alone for so long,” debris and dust sat on every brick. More people rushed by, carting a load of broken and molded wood. “You’ll forgive me but I am needed in the healing area. Perhaps you could lend a hand?” she smiled waiting for his reply.  
Chuckling he nodded, “we have much work to do, let us begin.”  
From the personal writings of Hyacinth Trevelyan:  
Varric managed to get me a new writing book, and after the week at Skyhold I am able to use it. Cassandra requested I write my encounter with this Corypheus down and make it available to them. I submitted that before retiring to my tent. There is so much work to do. Animals have nested in the area and I have had to treat a few of the poor soldiers tasked with their removal.   
I find my dreams are once again my own. Solas has been correct in that account and seems to be very relieved for me. Together we have been working nearly day and night to help the wounded. We were very fortunate the well water is pure and ready to use. It has made treated the burned injured much easier and quicker. Saving many lives as well. Our casualties were not as high was anticipated, or so I have been told. I have been unable to get a moment with Cassandra or Cullen. Everyone is busy and I have done my best to stay out of their way.   
They are planning on opening the main hall of the large Keep today. Word has reached far and wide that the Inquisition lives and daily we receive caravans of provisions and new people. Some wishing to lend aid and become soldiers or merchants looking to restore the glory of these old walls. Others yet just wish to see the fabled Herald of Andraste, the one who survived the impossible. I am unsure how to feel, with this title above my head.   
Today my goal is to work on crafting more potions with our new alchemist. Adan couldn’t handle the shock of Haven. While he has remained to aid where he can, he has lost his nerve. Slight noses cause him to jump and scream. Many times, I’ve seen him sneak around a corner only to break down in tears, shaking violently or vomit. I wish there was more I could do for him. He is not alone in his behaviours. Many have similar problems. Surviving the attack by what we now know as the Venatori and Red Templars.   
Madness, absolute madness. These men and women were regular templars at one point, but they either willingly or unwillingly ingested red lyrium. Varric has sent over information on all he knows of the stuff. It is near ten times more powerful than regular lyrium but its effects are monstrous. I have heard the whispers between soldiers of the grotesque forms they have found in their searches of Haven. Bodies contorted and ridden with the living red crystals. I haven’t seen any of the bodies myself but I am told the insides were littered with the crystal shards. What level of man is left when the crystals grows and seems to feed upon its host? We must discover where this red lyrium is coming from and we must stop it.   
I have taken far too much time up writing in this book. I hear the sound of crowds gathering outside by the stone steps heading up to the Keep. Someone is requesting to speak to me. I shall write later – HC  
Hyacinth folded up her book and walked out of her tent, “who needs my aid?”  
“My lady, Seeker Cassandra requests to speak to you. She’s over there,” pointing towards the well the man bowed and quickly disappeared into the crowd.  
Cassandra spotted her in the crowd and hastened her steps toward her, “Lady Trevelyan!” she waved as she caught up to her, “do you have a moment?” Nodding she continued, “we read over your report of your encounter with this Corypheus. Was it true he came seeking your mark?”  
Clenching her fists, she nodded, “it appears I’ve upset some plan of his to enter the Black City and become a God. This,” hold up her hand, “was to be his tool.”  
Cassandra touched her hand, “while you have become the creatures rival you stand here today because of your efforts. We stand here today because of your efforts,” smiling she tugged Hyacinth up the grand stairway to the small landing over looking the entire main courtyard. “The Inquisition needs a leader. One who has been leading it all along.”  
Leliana walked down the few steps from the main Keep entrances, a gleaming ceremonial sword held in her outstretched arms. Dawnstone shone iridescent purples and blues as the sunlight licked the edges. Twin dragons wrapped around the hilt, teeth bared out at the blade’s enemies. Bowing her head she lifted the blade towards Hyacinth.  
“You,” Cassandra smiled, “this was not an easy choice to make. I find it difficult to hand over this kind of power to anyone, but you have shown yourself to be what we needed, when we needed it most.”  
Hyacinth stood dumbfounded, “me, a mage? I…” looking over the crowd forming beneath her she saw Solas nod his approval, Blackwall clapping along with the crowd, Varric smiling widely and also nodding along. Taking a look at her marked hand she knew, “if I am to become this leader, than I do it for those who cannot protect themselves. For the needy and the wanting. For the innocent and the faithful. This Inquisition will stand for all!” plucking the blade up the crowd burst into a roar of cheers.  
“Ambassador, do the people know?” Cassandra yelled as Hyacinth felt the weight of the sword.  
“Yes, and soon the world!” Josephine cheered.  
“Commander, will the people follow?”   
“Will you follow?” the crowd roared, “will you serve?” growing louder, cheers threatened to drown out his voice, “your Herald, your Inquisitor,” drawing his sword he raised it to the sky and lowered it towards Hyacinth, a grin spreading across his face as the crowd over flowed with energy.


	9. Forget-Me-Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some **NSFW** moments. Fair warning

As the gathered crowd below celebrated and cheered their new Inquisitor, Hyacinth was silently ushered into the main Keep. In a fog, still in shock, “you all think I’m really the right one for this? To be your Inquisitor? Are you not concerned that being a mage might upset people?” waving her hand she stood beside them before placing them firmly upon her hips, “its not that I’m ungrateful, please don’t think that. I am just in shock. I never expected this.”  
Cullen chuckled, “you are more than prepared for such a role.”  
“The Commander is correct,” Josephine smiled, “you do not think of money, or privilege. You truly are a woman of the people. Something we need right now.”  
Hyacinth blushed, feeling the rush of nerves, “oh, thank you Josephine. Do you all feel that way?”  
Leliana’s giggles twinkled like bells in the vacant hall, “Maker yes. No one apposed, we were all in favor. Have faith in yourself, lady Trevelyan. We have faith in you, now there are important details to go over.”  
“Yes,” Cassandra nodded, “I will be stepping back now that we have a proper Inquisitor. Leliana will be your spymaster, Josephine your ambassador and Cullen your army’s general. If you’ll excuse me, I have some tasks that require my time and you should all get to speak with each other.”   
Cassandra calmly marched out of the main Keep. Hyacinth let out a nervous laugh, “I suppose we need to figure out our next move?” it was as much a statement as it was a question.   
“We have all read over your report on facing Corypheus, the dark future you experienced. Empress Celene assassinated, demon armies marching, it is quite dire.” Leliana spoke softly.  
“Where do we, how do we,” Hyacinth flustered, “forgive me, I am, unsure what to do.”  
“I think I can help with that,” Varric’s voice bounced off the high vaulted ceilings and echoed back towards him, “I may have overheard about Corypheus and set out some letters. I have a friend who may be able to help, but not here,” he waved his hands backing away to the door, “meet me on the battlements, this is… delicate.”   
Leliana chuckled, “if he has contacted who I believe he has, Cassandra will kill him.”  
“Excuse me,” Cullen cleared his throat, “I hate to interrupt but I must request a private meeting as soon as you are available, Inquisitor. The tower above the main portcullis is my office. If you could come by, I shall be there for the bulk of the evening. If you will all excuse me, I believe you no longer require my council. Excuse me,” he bowed at the waist for Hyacinth and promptly sauntered out of the Keep.  
Josephine touched Hyacinth’s arm, “Inquisitor, this room will be cleared before nightfall and a proper set of personal quarters arranged for you. I shall have books in your personal space to read up on political niceties, Orlesian culture and other understandings. You shall not go into this alone, my lady.”  
Weakly smiling Hyacinth nodded, “thank you Josephine. I appreciate everything and all assistance you can provide.”  
“Go, speak with Varric. If you require me, find a scout. They’ll be running around Skyhold all day, clearing debris and preparing quarters for people.” Leliana smiled, “there is work to be done. Corypheus will not have his way.”  
Standing alone in the large hall Hyacinth looked around. A solitary throne sat on it’s side at the end of the hall. Spacious and wide she mused it could hold two barns within it’s grandiose walls. Brilliantly coloured stained glass covered half the wall behind the throne. Light streaming in, in glimmering shades of reds, oranges and greens. With a bit of work, she imagined it could be an impressive hall. Fit for a sitting King, or in this case, Inquisitor. Repeating it again and again, it sounded so foreign, “Inquisitor Trevelyan,” she rolled it around on her tongue. Walking back out the hall door, the sun beamed high in the sky. Scanning over the yard people seemed to be happy, busily moving about their jobs. Each with renewed vigor and a bounce to their step she hadn’t seen since she half sealed the Breach. Hope had returned to the people and she felt empowered. Vowing that this is how she wanted things. Happy, well tended to people with the hope that maybe not tomorrow but someday soon the dawn would cut through the dark night.   
Walking down the steps she hit the first landing and turning to her right began down the second set. Before her stood a grand looking structure, people working rapidly to clear it. The back edge of the building sat against the exterior wall of Skyhold itself. Stone steps reaching the battlements towered alongside the wall. Taking her time, she carefully made the ascension to the top. Daring to peek over the edge she felt dizzy at the heights. She was completely unable to see the bottom of the valley, a swirling mist blocking her view. Gripping the stone rail tightly she followed the walkway towards a corner tower. Something red caught her eye, pacing back and forth. Recognizing Varric she raced over to him, wanting to get down from the top of the Keep. “Varric,” she half squeaked out, “oh Maker please, Varric!”   
“Over here,” he waved her to the tower door. Following his lead, she entered the tower quickly, very happy there were only small slits for windows. Taking in a long breath, she tried to steady herself, calm her fears. Varric’s voice pulled her over to the corner, a small table and chairs set up near a few candles. Sitting in the chair Varric nodded, “thanks for coming. I apologize for not being able to say anything sooner. Meet my friend here, Hawke. We encountered Corypheus once before, maybe she can help.”  
Black, dragon scale armor boots took a slow step into the light. Followed by long, thick, muscular thighs in dark leather. Chainmail inset into the same black leather material covered her torso in a bustier. Heavy breasts pushed high, threatening to spill out, gleaming creamy skin. Raven, curly hair spilled over her shoulders, half pulled back out of her face in an elegant side braid. Crimson lips matched the swipe of crimson across her nose. Two orbs of pale blue eyes spoke of quick wit and harsher times, “good day, Inquisitor, was it? I do hope you haven’t had too much trouble.”  
Speechless Hyacinth stood staring in awe of the gorgeous woman standing before her, “I… uh… no?”  
Hawke giggled in pure amusement at Hyacinth’s stumbling, “I can see why you call her Bumbles, Varric. She’s cute though,” snickering as she pulled a chair up and sat close to Hyacinth she licked her lips, “tell me, sweet girl, what can Hawke do for you?”  
Again, Hyacinth tripped over her own tongue, unable to get her words out. Flushing bright red she turned to Varric, “you are an evil man. Did you not tell her why we need her help?”  
“Of course, I did. Hawke is just messing with you. We faced Corypheus back in Kirkwall. Hawke,” he sat beside her, a bottle of ale in his hand.  
Sighing she flicked her hair over her shoulder, “straight to business then, fine. Story is a simple one. A local carte was coming after my brother and I, Varric tracked them down to some abandoned Grey Warden fortress on the outskirts of town. Turns out the entire Carte was drinking darkspawn blood to hear their ‘Master’s wishes.’ Went inside to find it was a Grey Warden prison, sealed using blood magic by my late father. Only way to break it was with my blood, or so we were repeatedly told. Long trip, short, we tracked down to the bottom to find that it held an ancient darkspawn. That claimed to be a priest of Dumat, Corypheus. One of the legendary Magisters that entered the Golden City and corrupted it. We fought, he died. Or so I thought. Now I hear he’s back.”  
Hyacinth swallowed hard and sat bewildered, “he claimed his name was Corypheus. Can he really be the same creature?”  
“Darkspawn can survive near fatal wounds, perhaps his link to the taint kept him alive,” Varric drank down a health swig from the bottle.  
Hawke quirked her eyebrow, “after I was, relieved of my role in Kirkwall, I asked a friend of mine in the Grey Warden’s to look into the use of red lyrium for me. He claimed he was being pursued and went into hiding.”  
“We had word Grey Warden’s were disappearing, could this be related?” Hyacinth began to settle in her chair, the woman before her slowly becoming less imposing.  
“If you are saying that perhaps Corypheus might be controlling the Wardens. That could make sense for the disappearances. My contact is set to send word any day now. Once I know where he is, I can hopefully meet with him and get a better idea of what is truly going on here. Perhaps he may even share vital information about Corypheus,” grinning widely she leaned back in her chair, “in the mean time, I could lounge around here. Hot food, warm bed, exquisite view,” she looked Hyacinth over, “yes, I do say a brief stay would be nice.”  
Varric spit his ale against the wall, “are you trying to get me killed Hawke? That’s one way to get out of a Wicked Grace debt.”  
Laughing Hawke snuggled into the dwarf’s arm, “ah Varric, you know I love you too much to see you killed. Cassandra has her blasted Inquisitor, surely, she’ll have to let this go. Would they really want me as their, ‘Inquisitor’?” she burst into a heavy fit of laughs, “oh I can’t wait to see Curly’s face when he sees me.”  
“You know Cullen?” Hyacinth’s voice squeaked out, almost afraid to hear how they knew each other.  
“Ah yes, the Knight Captain without his shining armor,” she half sighed as she played with a small knife, “I wonder if he’s still as much fun as he was in Kirkwall?”  
“Hey, Curly is a little different Hawke,” Varric snickered, “bit more level headed, less lyrium too.”  
Hyacinth drew enough from their conversation that she didn’t want to hear any more, “I do hate to be rude and leave during this lively conversation but I am needed elsewhere,” rising from her seat she was shocked when she felt a strong, rough hand grasp her wrist.  
“Don’t be a stranger, sweet girl. Perhaps a game of Wicked Grace later? Drinks? I do so wish to get to know our Inquisitor better,” a wicked grin spread across Hawke’s lip, “oh and you can either call me Hawke, or my first name, Clara.”  
Cheeked aflame Hyacinth nibbled the corner of her cheek, “perhaps later this evening, if things are quiet enough. Thank you for your aid Clara. Varric, I’ll see you around.” Feeling Hawke’s grip lighten she calmly walked back out the doors and across the battlement.   
Mind racing, she needed to calm herself. Cullen had mentioned he needed to speak to her and this might be a good a time as any. Strolling the battlements, she had to pass through an empty tower before she was standing at Cullen’s office door. Giving her head a quick shake she reached up and quickly fixed her hair, before chuckling to herself. How silly to be vain at a time like this, but she couldn’t help but feel inadequate when faced with the bold and sultry sensuality of Clara Hawke. Looking down at her own clothes she sighed. Beige linen pants and a beige linen button down shirt. She felt frumpy, how could someone as masculine and alive as Cullen be interested in her when he had someone as incredible as Hawke. Placing her hand on the door she fought past the urge to cry. Faking confidence instead she pushed through, “Commander, you wished to speak to me?”  
Cullen was leaning over his desk, staring down a stack of papers, “oh Inquisitor, I did not expect you so soon. Did your conversation with Varric and his friend go over well?”  
Half stuttering, she threw her hands up, “I was a bumbling mess. Clara Hawke is, something all together more than I am,” she flopped down on the chair in front of his desk.   
“I was afraid it would be Clara,” he pinched his nose bridge as he stood up, other arm rest on his sword hilt, “how much did she say, if you do not mind my inquiring.”  
“More than I cared to hear,” shaking her head she looked up to see Cullen’s face blooming scarlet, “you and her…”  
“It’s complicated but we are not together if that is what you wish to know,” releasing his face he looked up, “I did call you to see me for something important. Now that you are the Inquisitor you need to know this,” he slid a small box across the desk towards her, “as you know templars require lyrium to utilize their abilities. Once they take their vows they are given a philter, their first draught of lyrium. I said I am no longer a templar. I no longer take it.”  
Hyacinth nearly tumbled from her chair, “Maker’s breath Cullen! This is why you have been ill! All this time and you wouldn’t tell me till I became the Inquisitor! Why now? Why?” her fists were balled tight in her lap.  
“I should have told you sooner. Should have trusted you enough to say something, but I never found the words. I apologize. As to why, you are now the Inquisitor. You need to know Cassandra is watching me. If I falter, if I cannot lead the armies, give my all, then she will find a replacement. The Inquisition and its people must always come first.”  
Shutting her eyes tightly she stood, “come here, now,” she waved her hand for him to come to her.  
Not wanting to upset her further he walked around the desk to stand before her, “Inquisitor?”  
“Sit,” she pointed to the chair she had just been in, “please, Commander.” Her words were bitter, a personal sting to her and to him as she watched him sit down, “don’t move, don’t complain, just don’t.” Gripping his temples in a light touch she began working spells to relieve his symptoms. Easing the nausea, headaches, nerve and body aches, as she closed her eyes tightly. Trying not to think of Cullen and Clara, bodies writhing together, her heavy breasts held in his hands, in his lips. Grunting she let her hands go and pulled back, “I… I have to go.” Bursting out the door she rushed down the stone steps. Rushing past the large building she found a door along the wall of the Keep and opening it she slammed it behind herself. Sitting alone in the dark she sobbed bitterly into her sleeves.   
Cullen sat completely confused. His headache gone, tingling in the base of his neck and spine gone, fire in his veins gone. It felt strange to be free of everything, if only for a while. Standing he questioned if he should follow her, but before he had the opportunity to do so his side door opened.  
“Cully,” Clara’s sultry voice was near giddy as she swayed her hips and crossed the room, “oh how I’ve missed you,” she walked up to him and playfully ran her fingers through his hair, “straightened it? I do miss those glorious curls.”  
Cullen blushed and grabbed her wrist, “Hawke, I see somethings never change.”  
“You never complained before, darling,” she purred caressing his face, allowing her fingers to dwell over his lush lips, “I don’t remember you complaining at all.”  
Heat rose in his belly, primal urges going against his better judgement. It had been months since he was in Kirkwall. Months since he last laid with a woman. His intense focus on the Inquisition had left him little time for sins of the flesh. Her finger tips were warm, familiar and her scent was heavy. Sweet honey and subtle roses. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus. With no pain to pull his mind from things he tried to focus on his breathing.  
Sliding her fingers down to his chin she leaned in and graced her lips against his, “you never could deny me.” Teasingly she pressed her body up against him, knocking him back into the chair. Lips curled into a wicked grin as she straddled him, “are you going to make this hard for me? You know I’ll win,” lowering herself into his laps she pressed herself against him, grazing her cheek against his she nibbled at his ear lobe, “let’s play naughty mage and righteous templar, just like old times.”   
He nether region betrayed him as he felt her grind again him. With everything he had he fought the urge to give in, take what she was offering. Maker what if someone walked in? What if Hyacinth walked in?   
Clara kissed his neck, taking a playful nip of the sensitive flesh, “you smell just as I remember. I wonder if this armor is as easy to peel you out of?” Her deft fingers reached between them and found the laces to his breeches, “already at attention, Commander,” she purred laying open mouth kisses across his cheek before resting on his lips. Undoing the ties, she licked his lip, tracing the scar running down his upper lip, “take me,” she purred as her fingers crept into his pants.   
The touch of her hands over him caused him to moan, just enough that she pressed her lips against his. Warm, thick, delicious lips. He lost control. Hands scrambled to pull his gloves off, to feel her skin against his. Gloves flew over his desk as his hands gripped her hips, a sinful sigh escaped her as he trailed his hands down, tugging at her pants.   
Clothes and armor rapidly piled up as the two tore at each other. Rough and hard, both in need. She had tormented him, but he knew she was suffering as badly as he was. Picking her up he walked over to the wall. Slamming her back into the stone he rutted into her. Each thrust up into her core felt wonderful. Months of pent up frustrations bleed themselves clear as he took pleasure in every wanton curse and moan that crossed her swollen lips. Gripping her about the hips with one hand he held her throat against the wall, “you wanted this, you filthy mage,” she grinned back at him and it made him feel high. Breasts bounced freely near his face, he plunged in. Kissing, sucking and biting, leaving rings of red behind. He knew her, knew how roughly she enjoyed her sex. This wasn’t their first time, not even a second. They’d done this many times after he took her side against Meredith in the courtyard of the Gallows. Releasing her neck, her pawed at her breasts. He was near his end, but he was never a greedy lover. Holding back, he wanted to satisfy her, feel her quake about him before he enjoyed his bliss.   
Free from his grip and deep in the throws of her own climbing ecstasy she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to capture his lips. Grunting against him she felt it overwhelming her, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth she bit down.   
Wanting to muffle her cries he forced his face away from her, teeth dragging across his lip left a small gash. Pulling her forward he placed her face into his shoulder, “bite, now,” he ordered in a broken rough voice. Feeling her teeth sink in tight, he felt her coil and squeeze him inside of her. Focusing on the burning pain and pleasure in his shoulder as she held tight he increased his speed and force. Each thrust upwards made her mumble and groan against him. It wasn’t too long before she relaxed her hold and became limp. A few more sporadic movements and he quickly withdrew, completing himself onto the stone floor. Helping her down to her feet he immediately began dressing. Refusing to look her in the eyes.   
“So soon,” sighed Hawke, still nude and perched upon the chair, “that was just the warm up round,” grinning she crossed her legs, refusing to dress.  
“Hawke this isn’t the Knight Commander’s office. Anyone could come in, including the Inquisitor,” he rapidly tied off his breeches and pulled his linen shirt back over his head, “I am the Commander of the Inquisition’s armies and a trusted advisor to the Inquisitor. We… this cannot happen again.”  
Stretching her arms out she pretended to pout, “oh Cully Wully, nothing changes with you. All business and no play. How dull,” collecting her clothes she did her best to make every piece of clothing absolutely alluring as she redressed, “you’re too tight. You normally last much longer,” she teased as she fluffed her hair, “tell me. Do I look like I just received a proper fucking from the Commander himself? I dare say these teeth marks might be a little noticeable.” She dragged her finger over her cleavage, plump and lush in her shirt.  
“Damnit Hawke, I am not playing,” he bellowed as he finished securing his breast plate, “heal yourself and show yourself out,” he hung his head, shame biting at him.  
Rolling her eyes, she swiped her hand over her chest and neck, marks vanishing under her magic, “fine, Commander. I’ll leave you to your miserable papers, as always. I’ll be in the guest rooms, resting, if you feel the need to take more time.” Calmly she strolled out the door.  
Hyacinth let out a gasp, “oh Leliana, it’s too much!” standing in her own quarters she was amazed at the amount of work that had been put in for her comfort. Leliana had led her through the door on the left of the throne. Up two sets of stairs broken by a single door. Square in shape the room held a writing desk in the back corner facing the stairs. Bookcases, filled with books surrounded the desk. Stained glass windows and doors wrapped round opening to a balcony overlooking the Frostback Mountains. Close to the desk a liberal sized hearth fully loaded with a supply of wood sat, ready to be used. Across from the hearth sat a bed fit for royalty. Fine Orlesian silk covered a fluffy thick mattress covered with superb quality fur blankets. Six drawer tall dresser stood to the side of the bed and a table with couch sat along the rails of the stairwell.   
“Back here you have some privacy,” Leliana showed her two doors. One on each side of the bed, “inside here is a place for storage, and a ladder comes to this little hidden gem,” Leliana smiled. Above them was a small loft area with a chair and small table. Paintings adorned the wall. Stylish elven designs, with a pure white halla.   
“This is too much Leliana! Thank you so much, oh thank you!” Hyacinth bounced up and down as she paraded around the room, “I could hug you! Can I hug you?”  
Giggling Leliana nodded and Hyacinth practically jumped into her arms. The two laughed and spun in the middle of the room, enjoying a brief moment of playful innocence. Jumping down Hyacinth started to flush, “oh I am so sorry. I’m not very Inquisitor like, am I?”  
Leliana shook her head, “no, but this is private and safe. Skyhold is your home now, and you can rest knowing you are free to be whatever you wish to be within these walls. Josephine will lecture you on behaviour when dignitaries arrive, but remember to be true to yourself.” Hearing someone coming Leliana put her finger to her lips and grinned, “time to play the part.”  
“Lady Trevelyan, if I may have a moment of your time,” Cullen’s voice was short and frustrated as he crested over the last step. Not looking up from a stack of papers he just missed walking into Leliana, “Maker’s breath! I am sorry. I was not paying attention, I apologize Leliana.”  
Waving a hand Leliana shook her head, “it is alright Cullen, I was just heading out. I need to speak with Hawke. She may have information on the red templars. Excuse me, Inquisitor. If you need anything, you’ll find me in the rook.”  
“What can I assist you with Commander,” Hyacinth’s tone matched his curt pitch as she walked over to her desk.  
Gripping his papers, he laid them upon her desk, “I need these read, and decisions made. You are the Inquisitor and from now on all decisions must be passed through you. I can stay and go over any details you have questions about or you may find me in my office.” Resting his arm against the hilt of his blade he eyed the room. Such opulence for someone who seemed a simple person. He quietly prayed it would not go to her head.  
Wind blew in from the open balcony door and blew across Cullen’s mantle. Hyacinth caught the hint of honey and roses. Flashing a quick look up she noticed his bottom lip was swollen, “Cullen, what happened to your lip?”  
Shame filled him once again. How he hated himself for giving in to his urges. He couldn’t tell her, “I was collecting books off the shelve in my office, one slipped and caught me in the mouth. I am fine,” he didn’t look her in the eye, instead he focused on the few papers remaining in his hands.  
He didn’t have to say it, she knew. While the Circle was quiet, it was far from sheltered. Too many times late at night she heard others together. No child herself she’d had a couple relationships in the Circle. She knew the signs, “if you are content with lady Hawke then I see no shame in admitting your coupling.” She fought back bitter tears, but the sting of jealousy did not escape her words.   
“I am not with Hawke,” he snapped back, “I am not tied to anyone at the moment. If you excuse me I should leave before I utter something I will come to regret.”   
Cullen stomped his way down the stairs and out of her view. Confused by the interaction she began to set to work on her papers.  
“You didn’t,” Varric ran a hand down his face as he sat across from Hawke at a small table in the corner tower, “please tell me you left Curly alone.”  
“And pass up that, like hell Varric,” she laughed drinking from her stein, “why? Is there something I don’t know?”  
“Ya, Bumbles is into him and by the looks of it he’s into her. This is going to make things complicated,” he groaned rubbing his eyes.  
“Oh, come now, he’s not married Varric. Beside I’m sure if Fenris found out he’d rip his heart out. Isabela might wish to join,” she snickered, “oh now that would be a tasty treat.”  
“Let me handle this Hawke, and stay away from Curly.” Sighing Varric got up, “I hear a birdy.”  
Hawke whistled and opened the door. An ebony bird perched on her forearm and cooed as she stroked its head, “good bird. What news have you brought me?” carefully pulling the scroll out of its holder on the bird’s back she began to read.  
“Anything interesting?” Varric passed the bird a mouse and watched as it hungrily gobbled it down.  
“Yes, I’m going to the sleepy town of Crestwood. Seems our dear friend Stroud is being pursued by Grey Wardens. They claim he’s some traitor and need to haul him in. More than that he cannot say for fear of being found. He’s holed up in some old smuggler’s cave a couple miles from Crestwood. If I leave at day break I can reach it in four days travel,” folding the letter up she burnt it in her palm, “oh don’t get all sad Varric, it’s a simple run. I’ll get the information and we’ll find out what is going on. Cully Wully is safe in the hands of Miss Frumpy Bumbles,” she chuckled sitting down and returning to her ale, “perhaps I may get in an evening with Miss Bumbles.”  
Half asleep, Hyacinth stared at the next letter on her desk. Words jumbled together as she tried to read. Standing up she walked out to the balcony to get some fresh air. Scanning the horizon, she was enchanted by the glorious pinks and warm hues of the fading sun, “I wish I had someone to share this with, it’s amazing,” she mused as the cooling night air passed over her. For all she had, she still felt lonely. Guilt crawled through her. She had no right to be angry with Cullen, after all he had no idea how she felt and they were not together. He had every right to spend time with whoever he chose. Walking back inside she picked up the small stack of papers she’d finished and paced off down the stairs.   
Inside the main hall was silent. People having finished their work for the day were heading to sleep. Small braziers lined the edges of the room, casting just enough light to illuminate her way. She’d toured the Keep earlier and decided to take a shorter route. Taking a left at the end of the hall, just before the main entryway she passed into the rotunda. Solas had claimed it as his study room. With the hour being late she wasn’t surprised to see it empty, the lone desk in the center of the room stacked high with books and scrolls.   
Crossing the room, she walked through a door and over a small stone bridge. Standing outside Cullen’s door she nibbled her lip. What if he had Hawke inside? Or any woman for that matter. Deciding to just slip in and drop the papers off she carefully opened the door. Clamping her hand over her mouth she stifled a shocked gasp. There he was standing over his desk, papers in hand as he continued to work by dim candle light, “Maker’s breath Cullen, you need sleep,” she huffed walking into the room.  
“Inquisitor!” he startled knocking over a bottle of ink, sending it tumbling to the floor.  
Shaking her head, she strode forward, “I came to deliver these papers. I know its not all of them but I fear I was falling asleep at my desk,” she let out a nervous giggle. “You should get some rest, it’s late and…”  
“Hawke’s gone,” he cut her off, “she is leaving for Crestwood in the morning. Her Grey Warden friend wrote her back. Turns out there is something going on there. It is a four-day ride to Crestwood and then she will send word once she has made contact.”  
Hyacinth didn’t know what to say as she stood there stunned for a moment, “I… I’m sorry for my words earlier they were unkind and wrong of me. I hope that it doesn’t effect our relationship.”   
Cullen wrinkled his face up in question, “relationship?”   
“Uh, well, uh,” she fumbled for words as she tried to take a step back. Catching her heel on the chair she stumbled and fell to the ground.  
Racing around the desk he reached down to help her up, “my lady!”  
“More like my klutzy Inquisitor. I am not cut out for this,” she groaned rubbing her hip, “I’m a frumpy, klutzy, childish, jealous fool,” she sputtered as she dusted herself off, “I’m interrupted your night enough. Please rest,” she turned and limped towards the door.  
Cullen struggled with what to do, “my lady, no matter what you believe, I believe you are the right choice for Inquisitor.”   
Pausing in her steps she held the handle of the door in her hand tightly, “thank you Cullen,” hanging her head she closed her eyes tight, fighting to calm herself, “see me in the morning, please. I can treat your symptoms better if you visit me regularly. Don’t let the nightmares keep you awake. My door is always open to you, no questions.” Focusing on the sounds in the room she wasn’t shocked to hear silence, “good night, Cullen. Please, do not make me order your rest,” pulling the door open she began a slow walk back to her room.  
He stood unable to think of what he should have said or did. Knowing he made a mistake he hung his head. Night was falling in quickly, a full moon hanging over the sleepy Keep. In frustration he threw an empty bottle against the wall, pieces shattering across the floor. Blowing out the candles he crossed the room to a lone ladder sitting a few feet from the door she’d just left. Climbing he pulled himself over the edge and into his private loft. A simple bed, wash stand, a night stand and chest for his clothes were the only items. Taking the time to remove each piece of armor with care he inspected each piece before placing it in the chest. Once down to his linen pants and tunic he flopped down onto the bed. Staring up at the stars through the sizable hole in the ceiling he sighed. Counting the stars and feeling the wintry breeze pass over him helped keep the terrors away. Since Kinloch Hold he has suffered terrible claustrophobia. Nearly debilitating. Gazing up through the opening made him feel safe. Trying to get comfortable he pulled a thin cotton blanket over himself. Settling against the pillow he yawned and closed his eyes.  
Hyacinth made a bee line through the Keep and into her quarters. Pulling her writing book out she set down to write. Only once she was prepared, the words wouldn’t come. Frustration took hold. She knew she needed to tell him. Needed to get it off her chest, and if he didn’t feel the same she would have to live with it. The thought of not saying anything was nearly as horrible as having to say something. Shutting her book again she calmly opened up her wardrobe and began looking through pieces. Grabbing a simple nightgown for the night she changed in the small storage room. Walking out she let out a sharp yelp, Clara Hawke sat on the edge of her bed, “Maker’s breath Clara! What are you doing here at this hour?”  
“My sweet girl, I came to check on my favourite Inquisitor!” Clara smiled wide as she leaned back upon her elbows, “my what a dashing nightgown. Didn’t think you had it in you.”  
Groaning Hyacinth crossed her arms tight against her chest, “Hawke, as much fun as I am currently having, I wish to rest. Either state your business and leave or simply leave.”  
Throwing her hands up as she stood Hawke smiled, “So much like Cullen,” she laughed brushing off her shirt, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. No harm. I didn’t mean to upset you earlier today with my conversation with Varric. Cullen and I knew each other a lifetime ago. Nothing more. I promise you, I am not interested in the blonde brute.”  
Hyacinth tried to keep herself composed, fighting every urge inside her, “thank you, Hawke. Now if you would kindly leave, I need rest. The Inquisition will not be pleased if their Inquisitor is the walking dead tomorrow. Best of luck and safe travels.”  
“Ah,” grinning Hawke sauntered towards the stairs, “Cullen spoke with you. Good. I am leaving come morning. Won’t be back for some time. Could be a few weeks depending what I hear. I’ll send word to Sister Leliana as soon as I know. Again, my deepest apologize. I could stay,” turning she leaned on the balcony. Crossing her arms her breasts heaved up, threatening to expose themselves, “keep you company tonight.”  
“Not interested, good night,” Hyacinth thrust her hand out and snuffed all the candles leaving only the hearth ablaze. Ignoring everything she pulled her blankets back and welcomed the plush decadence of the bed.  
Hawke let out a soft chuckle as she headed down the stairs, and out the door.


	10. Bleeding Hearts

An excerpt from the private journal of Cullen Rutherford:  
Hawke left a few days ago and I have been troubled ever since. My encounter with her has left me feeling ashamed. Though I have not spoken my feelings for Hyacinth, I feel as if I have betrayed her. I allowed myself a moment of carnal sin and I fear I pay my own penance. Every morning I announce myself to her chamber. Every morning she treats my headaches and the burning pains from the withdrawal. I cannot bare to look her in the eyes. She is tender and caring, trying her best to aid me. I do not know how to handle this situation. I have made a ruin of this and I am unable to find a solution.  
Word came this morning from Hawke. Her contact in Crestwood claims the Grey Wardens are under the influence of Corypheus. Something he referred to as a Calling. I am unaware of such a thing but the Grey Wardens are a secretive organization. Ser Blackwall claims to be unaffected, and has been cut off from the Wardens for some time. He has offered to travel with Lady Hyacinth. Hawke is meeting her contact in the Western Approach. An ancient Tevinter ritual tower stands within the arid sands. Hawke has requested Lady Hyacinth and a small party join her. They are set to leave here shortly. Leliana has already sent her fastest scouts ahead to secure a haven within the desert. We have already received reports of red templar movement.   
I have begun investigating Samson and his efforts. How far has he fallen? It was one thing to be kicked out of the Order and beg upon the streets but to lead an army of red lyrium infested men and woman. I am at a loss. I await word on several things I’ve considered. Leliana has offered the use of a few of her more capable spies. Perhaps I will delve into that option.   
Time apart may help me to deal with these emotions, and refocus on the efforts of finding Samson. We must find the supply lines of red lyrium. This may be the clue to finding Samson and stopping his red templars.   
My thoughts are scattered and I ramble. – CR  
“This is the war room, my lady Inquisitor,” Josephine smiled as she held wide the double wooden doors. Before her sat an elaborate live edge tree section, acting as their plotting table. Upon the table itself, was a hand carved map of Thedas. Iron pegs depicting a fist, a raven and a set of scales sat on the edge of the table. Behind the table sat the same figures, enlarged to tower over her, “this is where we will meet now that they have managed to clear it out. What do you think, Inquisitor?”  
“Its wondrous,” she exclaimed as she gazed around. “It will be much easier to house our meetings in here. Much easier to see things as well, upon the map. May I ask what these pegs are for?” Picking up the piece that looked like a fist holding a spiked halo tight, she turned it over in her hand.  
Snickering, “that was Cullen and Leliana’s idea. They thought it would make choices easier and limit paperwork. We will present you with the issue and our solutions. Together we can decide what way to best handle a situation. You shall select which person’s option is best and place the peg on the area requiring the attention with the best option. The fist is your army, Cullen. The raven is your spies, Leliana. The scales are your diplomacy, myself. Does this make sense to you, Inquisitor?”  
Nodding Hyacinth carefully placed the peg back down on the table, “have we word from the scouts out in the Western Approach? I do not look forward to the long journey tomorrow.”  
“Word from Scout Harding has come in. They have set up camp a few miles from the ritual tower. By the time you arrive, Ser Hawke will be there to greet you. By horse it will take you and your companions a weeks’ journey. A raven can make the flight in a half day. Do you have any concerns?” scribbling a letter upon her writing board she paused to peak up at Hyacinth.   
Nervously nibbling her thumb nail, she leaned against the table, “Josephine, I’m scared.”  
“If you are asking my opinion, my lady, I would recommend bringing Blackwall, Cassandra and one other with you. Smaller groups can travel faster. We have recruited a mercenary group recommended by lady Vivenne. The Chargers. Their band leader, Iron Bull may prove to be a good travelling partner as well,” sighing she placed the writing board on the table, “my lady, you can do this. I have faith in you, we all do. Have faith in yourself. You have seen us through so much already, you can do this.”  
Chuckling she lowered her gaze back to the table, “let’s begin.”  
Meeting together in the war room they spent several hours pouring over letters, internal issues, and requests from dignitaries. Hyacinth carefully listened to each option being as open-minded as she could. It wasn’t until Cullen spoke that she really honed in on his words, “Inquisitor, I require a few men to spare. I have a lead on the red lyrium supplies and to confirm my suspicions I need to apply some pressure to black market vendors. There are rumors that red lyrium may be funneled through the Emerald Graves.”  
Cocking her head to the side she crossed her arms, “would it not be wiser to use one of Leliana’s contacts? Surely, they would have an easier and less direct approach to the situation. Could your people aid the Commander?” she smiled as Leliana nodded, “then there you have it. Leliana will place one of her people in the Black Market on watch. Something will come up rather quickly if her people are as well versed as they have so far shown. I promise, if there are doors that require boots, I will allow you your fun,” she stifled a soft giggle as he groaned, “come now Commander, not everything can be fixed with force.”  
“Don’t waste your breath, Inquisitor,” Josephine giggled, “he is a man who believes everything is a nail and he the hammer.”  
Cullen groaned and rubbed his neck, “not everything needs to be treated with force. I am aware of that. In this case lyrium smugglers have become shrewd and dangerous. It simply saves time. Instead of hiding in dark corners and praying to the Maker one of them is lacking intelligence and reveals his inner most thoughts. We could simply apply a little brute force and have the information now.”  
“At the risk of losing information down the line. I see your point but it is entirely short-sighted,” Leliana snipped back, “it may take an extra day but we gain more. We will find Samson, Cullen. You have my word.”  
Growling low he slammed his hand on the table, “not soon enough. While you play in the shadows that man is corrupting the remains of the Order!”  
“Enough,” Hyacinth snapped, “I understand your concerns Commander. Do not let this Samson get under your skin. He will get his, in due time. As it stands I am set to leave tomorrow and will have no time to invest in locating him. Your information will come in before I return, and we can set about finding him then. One problem at a time.”  
Josephine beamed, “see, I told you, you can do this.”  
Even Cullen had to acknowledge she was handling her role brilliantly, “thank you Inquisitor. I apologize, for losing my temper. I shall endeavour to control my tongue.”  
“Is that all for today? I would like to get some training in before we leave and the day is growing long,” Hyacinth looked around the room. No one spoke up and she nodded her understanding, “I shall be in the training yard. Leave any papers for me on my desk, I will do my best to get through them before I leave. Does anyone have anything they need to get out before I go?” she glared over at Cullen. Their eyes locked for a brief moment.   
“None, Inquisitor,” Leliana and Josephine smiled and began cleaning up papers.  
“Commander? Is there anything that needs my time?” she was digging now, seeing him on the edge of speaking.   
“I… would you please stop by my office before you leave. I wish a moment of your time, in private,” he bowed and walked past her out the door.  
Picking up several papers off the table, Hyacinth walked out of the war room. Taking a brief detour to her quarters she changed into something more comfortable and placed the papers on her desk. Determined to do something about this tension between her and Cullen she paced out of her room like a woman on fire. Stopping for no one she arrived outside his tower door. Hesitating for a moment, she nibbled her lip. What would she say? Her relationships in the Circle had come so naturally. Time spent over books, dinners together, and long talks. Everything moved slowly and with ease. Here, she felt out of place. Leliana kept reminding her to be herself, to stay the way she is. Clenching her jaw tightly, she knocked on the door, “Commander, may I enter?”  
“Enter,” Cullen’s voice bellowed, echoing about him in his tower. He asked her here. Meaning to clear up the confusion, confess his sins and seek his penance. Nervously smoothing his hair down, he waited for the door to open. Anxiety kicked in as the door seemed to swing open in slow motion. Knee high, flat leather boots in a crisp brown entered first. Followed closely by her long, lean thighs, adorned in beige leggings. Her fingers coiled around the edge of the door drew his attention upwards. An airy, billowing cream blouse was held about her waist with a leather cinch in the same colour as her boots. Her hair was half up, tightly bound braids held the edges of her hair back from her face, “Maker,” he couldn’t help but utter at the sight of her.   
“Good afternoon, Cullen. How are you feeling? Did you need my aid?” she smiled sweetly, amused at his stunned face, “is everything alright?”  
He felt as if he’d swallowed his tongue. Uttering several unintelligible words, he groaned. Leaning over his desk he struggled to regain himself.   
Hyacinth walked straight up to him, laying a delicate hand upon his, “is there something the matter? Please, if I can help, I want to.” Stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, she silently cursed the leather separating their skin from touching. Normally she never wore gloves, not in the Circle and not when she fled. Now, she was learning to fight with a sword, and gloves were a must have item. Blackwall had surprised he with a near perfect fit pair of elbow length, high quality leather.   
“I… uh…” again the words failed him.   
Reaching up she tugged her glove off and cupped his face with her bare hand, “let me help.” Soft, healing magics ebbed through her skin into his. Relishing the feel of his strong jaw line she couldn’t help but smile as she worked, “I will be gone for some time out in the Approach. I have spent some time crafting some potions. They aren’t as good as this,” she flicked her thumb over his cheek bone, “but it will keep the worst of the withdrawal away. You must sleep, remember to eat three meals at minimum a day. Please do not make me leave that as an order.”   
Eyes closed he was lost in the sensation of her warm palm. Muttering a half hum of appreciation, he forgot about what he had wanted to say, “it feels wonderful.”  
Hyacinth blushed brightly, glad his eyes we shut. Several times she opened her mouth to speak but the words just wouldn’t come out. She wanted desperately to tell him how she felt, but every time she began to think about it, her mouth ran dry and the words choked in her throat. Finishing she let her hand linger a moment longer about his face. His face was soft, normal worried and focused brows relaxed and at ease. Lips normally pursed in anger were set in a soft smile. Heat flushed to her cheeks and core as she thought about those lips, entangled in her own. Leaning in she intended to kiss his cheek when the door burst open. Squealing she jumped back, “Commander I have that report you were wanting from Sister Leliana.” The scout didn’t even bother to look up from his papers as he marched in.  
Hyacinth glared him down, “thank you for being so dutiful,” she snarled.  
“My lady,” he gasped, “I was looking for you as well. Ser Blackwall is set in the training area, ready for your time,” he smiled, oblivious to the moment he’d just interrupted, “he is eager to begin.”  
“Blackwall?” Cullen half croaked out as he excepted the papers from the scout, “you’re dismissed Jim, I’ll return the reply to Leliana myself.” Bowing he ushered himself out the door.   
“Yes, Blackwall. He won the Grand Tourney in the Free Marchs a few years back. Before his Warden days. Trained with a few Chevalier and his skill on the field is impressive. I wanted to get in some extra work, before we have our second session. I want to be prepared for you,” her cheeks were still red and she had hoped he might catch on to her subtle innuendo.   
“Yes, I understand Inquisitor,” his voice was hollow. Someone else, especially Blackwall training her in sword play did not sit well with him. The image of Blackwall cradling her at the Breach was still too fresh in his mind. Jealousy was rearing its ugly head. Scanning over papers he tried to calm himself and return his logic, “was there no one else available? Perhaps Cassandra now that her duties no longer include the war room and endless papers?”  
Smirking she caught on to his tone, “Cassandra is busy, this afternoon preparing for our travels to the Western Approach. I am to train with her while we travel. Unless you can spare some of your precious time?” she let the last words linger, almost dripping from her lips as she stood by his side.  
“I apologize, my lady but I cannot abandon my rosters and work till later this evening. If you wish a later sparring session I can accommodate you,” now it was his turn to let the words hang in the air, a soft smirk painted his lips behind the papers in his hands. Maybe this would be his chance to speak to her. To tell her how he felt about her.   
Giggling she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him tightly, “I would love to!” jumping back she half skipped out the door, “this evening, after supper. I expect you ready, Cullen.” Happily, she took the stairway down the side of the wall to the small training area they’d set up.   
Blackwall was testing several blades, spinning them in his palm, “my lady, I’m glad you came.”  
“Sorry to keep you waiting. Do you have any recommendations on swords? I am very new to this,” she smiled tugging her gloves on tight.   
“The weight of your blade is the key. It needs to be balanced to you and your style. Here let me show you,” coming around behind her he wrapped his arms around her, helping her hold the hilt in her hand.   
Cullen grumbled under his breath as he watched Blackwall take her through several different blades. Testing their feel in her arm and hand, all while painfully close to her. Clenching his fist, he turned from the window. Would it be wise to speak his heart to her tonight? It seemed as through there may be something between her and Blackwall. Trying to focus he returned to his papers.   
Laughing Hyacinth nodded, “you are correct, this one feels much better. What is this style of blade?”  
“It is closer to the Orlesian Chevalier’s swords. Just a bit larger than a single-handed grip, not quite a two-handed grip. See the pommel,” he raised the hilt up, “it is thicker, easier to grip at. Also makes it harder to slip from your hand,” he backed up and spun the blade around, making several exaggerated motions, “firmer in your hand.”  
“I like it better than the Fereldan Captain’s blade. I’m sure Cullen won’t be too pleased to hear that,” she chuckled turning the blade over in her hand.  
Blackwall let out a hearty belly laugh, “ah, yes the Commander. I fear he may think I have my eyes set on you.”  
Hyacinth blushed, “oh.”  
Shaking his head, he smiled, “no offence, my lady but I fancy another.”  
“Well, this conversation just got a little awkward. Perhaps we could focus on the learning then. I appreciate your honesty,” she smiled and picked out a shield, “now do you have any advice on a shield?”  
Several hours past and dinner came around. Hyacinth sat in her quarters, reading over papers while happily humming a song. Famished she had finished her dinner once it arrived. Tapping her foot under her desk she finished the last paper. Set to leave in the morning she was excited to see the new blade and shield that was being worked for her. Tying her hair back up atop of her head, she began preparing to spar with Cullen. She’d looked forward to this all day. Changing her shirt to a loose sleeveless tunic she felt better. Tugging her elbow length gloves up she walked the distance to the training yard, quicker than she had before. Selecting her favourite training blade and shield she started to warm up. Practice swings, stretching, all waiting for Cullen to appear.   
Finishing up the last of his letters he peered out the door. There she was, in a scarlet tunic, stretching herself, and preparing. A wide smirk crossed his lips as he began removing his armor. This time he wouldn’t be bogged down with it. Not against a smaller opponent. She had speed against him, and flexibility. He had power and reach. Placing his armor neatly upon the training dummy he brushed his hair back and made his way to the training yard.  
Bending at the waist she stretched her back out. As she came up she spotted someone coming towards her. Straightening up she was in awe. Outside of his armor he wasn’t much smaller. Thick arms, and broad shoulders held tight, sculpted muscle upon his frame, “Cullen…” she gasped out, thrown off by his stature.  
“I apologize if I kept you waiting. It would have been inappropriate to come out without finishing my daily reports,” calmly he selected his training blade and shield, “was your training productive today?”   
Staring as he bent down to collect his equipment she half stuttered, “it was very informative. I believe I now have a better understanding of this,” her eyes locked on his backside as he pulled a blade from the bottom of the rack, “sight… I mean style!” She flushed red as she turned her back to him. Maker, get it together, she hummed in her head.   
Stifling a chuckle, he stood tall. He was aware of his looks, something he took pride in, “I am pleased you have a good understanding of the craft. Now let us test your skill,” setting his shield just at eye level he nodded, “do not hold back. Your goal is to knock me to the ground or disarm me. I will not go easily, and I expect you to push with all you have learned. As last time, use any technique you wish to reach your goal. An enemy will not adhere to honor or fairness.”   
Hyacinth licked her lips nervously, “if you so wish. I will not have you begging this time,” she snickered as she set herself, ready to fight.   
They danced around each other, exchanging testing blows back and forth. She knew she had speed and flexibility, but without his armor on he could just keep pace with her. His strength was intense. Each blow was punishing and her arms screamed when she battled back his parries and counters. If he was to continue his force against her, she knew he had her beat. It was now a battle of wills, each swinging arc of his blade forced her to rethink her steps. Flexibility meant she would be able to out maneuver him. She felt as if the training ring was closing in on her. He held the center and smug grin plastered on his lips, “are you alright, my lady? Having difficulties?” he taunted her as he lunged forward, his sweeping slash just missing her.   
“You tease me,” she growled, frustration seeping into her, “you could have had me by now, several times if I have been correct, in my count.” Grunting she countered his next lazy forward thrust, “you have been holding back, yet you wish me to push. Take me!” Catching his blade with hers she spun and redirected him behind her, as he cleared her left shoulder she slammed her shield into his backside, “I am not a child!”  
Carrying his momentum forward he dropped to his knees, skidding along the ground on the metal knee cap plates he quickly spun around and got back to his feet, “well played.” Already up and ready he smiled wide, “is the lady begging?”  
Shaking her head, she let out a laugh, “you, cheeky sod.” Spinning the hilt in her palm she quirked an eyebrow at him, “come, let’s play properly.” Feeling powerful and reinvigorated she set herself up knowing he no longer would withhold his strength or skill she focused intently on his chest. Blackwall had taught her a simple Chevalier trick. “The chest, it will show you all you need to know. Every move, every breath comes from the chest. Block out your surroundings, focus on his chest, count each breath and you’ll be able to see his next movement. Don’t get ahead of yourself, he is a skilled opponent with far more training than you.” His words still in her mind as she focused on the steady, slow heaving of Cullen’s chest. Sweat clinging to her skin, cooled her as the breeze passed effortlessly through her thin blouse. Setting herself ready she tried to calm her own breathing. Seeing his chest shift under his tunic she adjusted her position. Sidestepping she just missed the first flourish. Catching her balance, she tried to bring her shield up to catch his charge only to be half knocked to the ground. Bracing herself upon her knee she dipped under his next blow and kicked at his leg.   
Tumbling down they both scrambled to get up from the loose, dirt ring. Cullen felt a rush of excitement as he got back to his feet. Like a lion hunting its prey. Seeing her rise as quickly as he did, sent a wave of hunger through him. If she was this fierce and determined in their match, how powerful would she be in bed.   
Twisting the blade in her hand she saw him briefly pause. Hoping to capitalize on his hesitation she lunged forward, batting away his sword with her shield she was sure she was going to win. Instead his powerful grip tightened around her wrist. Smug and smirking he chuckled pulling her close, “I believe I win.”  
Struggling she tried to pull her sword arm free, “I... am… not… disarmed!”   
A quick thrust of his hips and she spun over his head to land on her back in the dirt. Releasing her wrist, he stood over her, feet straddling her hips. Pointing his blade at her chest he chuckled, “better?”  
Biting her lip, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “perhaps. It seems you enjoy toying with me. Would you kindly help me to my feet?” she held her hand out to him.  
Slamming the tip of his sword into the ground behind himself, he reached for her hand, “of course, my lady.”   
As a child, she would wrestle with the children of the Circle. Remembering how she would flip the bigger boys onto their backs she grinned. Taking his hand firmly in hers she tugged with everything she had, toppling him down on top of herself. Bucking her hips and bridging her shoulders she easily flipped him over and sat proudly with her arms crossed tightly, “yes, much better.”  
Both let out a chorus of giggles as she sat atop of him, the training yard bare as the light of braziers and torches lit the area. Patting his chest, she stood up, “next time, you will promise not to be so easy on me. I am not a delicate flower, despite my name.”  
Smiling he rose, “it seems you are not.” Coming to his feet he was close to her, so close he could feel the heat of her body. “I… thank you for today. It was skillfully handled.” He reached up and rubbed the base of his neck, cursing himself for not saying what he was actually thinking.  
Giggling into her hand she looked up into his eyes. His usual well tamed hair had begun to come loose. A few mischievous curls clung to his damp face, “I enjoyed myself tonight, thank you. Perhaps once I return we can do something a little less physical. Do you play chess?” walking together she headed for the main gates of the Keep.   
“You play? I would enjoy a chance to play someone other than Dorian. He cheats,” he snickered as he walked her up the Keep steps and towards her quarters, “do be careful in your journeys, Hyacinth.”  
Stopping she turned, “you never call me that. I do prefer it though,” her cheeks flushed soft pink as she reached for his arm, “you must tend to yourself while I am away. I shall worry endlessly if you do not.”  
“Worry? For me?” he was genuinely caught off guard as they stood at the door to her chambers, “my lady, please do not worry for me. It is I who shall be concerned till you are back within the walls of Skyhold.”  
Unsure of how to respond she fidgeted with her gloves, tugging at the fingers, “I… thank you. It means a lot to hear that from you.” Pulling her one hand free she decided to go for it. Reaching up she carefully touched his cheek.  
“I do not require healing,” he smiled.  
“I… I know,” her cheeks deepened and she struggled to look into his eyes. Those gold flecked, amber pools of perfection.   
Catching her hint, he reached up and held her hand, “thank you, my lady.” Pulling her hand over to his mouth he tenderly placed a kiss upon her palm.  
Nibbling her bottom lip, she beamed. Unable to find words, she stroked his upper lips with her thumb. It was soft and although slightly damp from sweat, she was tempted. Leaning in slightly she watched as he seemed to mimic her movements. Drawing closer she could feel his hot breath brush against her chin.   
“I can’t,” Cullen pulled back, running his hands down his face. “Please, forgive me this has nothing to do with you at all. I… I must go,” head down, he calmly walked away back down the hall.  
“Cullen!” she shouted after him. Confused she watched him walk through the doors to the rotunda. Frustrated she walked the steps up to her room. Everything seemed wonderful and yet he walked away. Why? Pulling out her journal she set to writing.  
Cullen paced back and forth, hands clenched firmly behind his back. What was he thinking? She was, is the Inquisitor! There could be rules against this at the least, it could cause wide spread issues within the rank and file at the worst. The son of a farmer, no title outside the Inquisition had no right to seek such privileges. Picking up several knives off his desk he began throwing them at the dummy. Hitting his target every time did little to satiate the feelings inside. Grunting in frustration he climbed the ladder to his bed. Sleep, she would be gone come morning and not return for nearly two weeks if not longer. He would use the time wisely. Think things through, at the least he owed her an apology and at the most, an answer. Laying down he raised his eyes to the sky, glittering gems of the night, shimmered and left him a cold reply.   
Morning came far quicker than Hyacinth had hoped as she dressed for the journey. Her new sword and shield sat ready upon her desk. Checking her letters, she sighed. Nothing from Cullen. Taking up her quill she was prepared to write him a letter, until her door banged open, “Cullen?” she hoped.  
“I’m sorry ma’am, I’m here to collect your gear and inform you, your party is ready to set off,” an Inquisition scout tried to smile, “are you requiring the Commander this morning?”  
“No, no, thank you. I shall head to the main gate now,” placing her quill back she rose and shuffled out the door.   
“Good morning, my lady,” Blackwall’s voice was crisp and bright as she marched up to her little group.  
“Good morning to you too Blackwall,” she smiled and gave him a warm hug, “your techniques worked wonderfully last night! I shall require a bit more work if I am to best him properly,” she smiled as Cassandra drew closer, “maybe some pointers later Cass?”  
Chuckling she nodded, “we have plenty of time on our journey and the exercise would be appreciated.”  
“Wonderful! What are we waiting for?” clapping her hands together she looked about.  
“Us,” a deep voice rose above the small group, “name is Iron Bull, I’m told you know this one,” thumbing behind him came Dorian.   
Hyacinth looked up, Iron Bull was easily a half man taller than her, “Maker,” she gasped.  
“Ya, I get that a lot. I’m your body guard on this trip, and since we’re all here. Let’s get moving. It’s a long enough journey,” he nodded as he climbed up on top of his horse.   
Taking one last look around Hyacinth nodded, “of course, you’re right. We should move while there is still daylight.” Taking Blackwall’s outstretched hand, she climbed up to sit behind him. Looping her arms around his waist they set off out the gate. A solitary horn blast signaling their departure.   
Cullen peered out the slit of a window, too ashamed to see her off. He watched until they were no longer visible, then turned and set about his daily duties.


	11. Desert Rose

Hyacinth’s personal journal:  
We have travelled for nine days, stopping only before nightfall to make camp. According to Scout Harding at our base camp in the Western Approach, we have arrived ahead of Ser Hawke. It has given me time to think, and work. Cassandra has taught me a few new tricks and I feel better about my skills. She has requested I speak to Vivenne once we return. Something about an Knight Enchanter skill.   
Blackwall kept us giggling and smiling with wonderful tales of his journeys. He is an interesting man, and one I am proud to call a friend. I finally got him to speak of his lady interest. Josephine! Oh, it is too good not to share. Such a wonderful coupling, it is beautiful. How he speaks of her, his eyes dance and his cheeks tint the most perfect pink under that bushy beard. I can only wish someone would think of me in such ways.   
Cassandra says I should speak with Cullen, once we return. She believes it is something else that caused the incident the night before we left. I do not know. It has left me feeling lonelier than I was before. If he has no interest in me I will handle that. If he does, then I sorely wish he would say so. I digress.   
I wished to write about the Iron Bull! What an amusing and fascinating person! I had never met a Qunari before. I shall try to explain. They live in the North, a place call Par Vollen, and they are fighting the Tevinter Imperium for land. They follow some text called the Qun. It is a book that their entire society goes by. Everyone! From the little I have heard it is not for everyone as we know life. Bakers can only be bakers, woman can’t be warriors because only men are warriors. Mages are scary and need to be on leashes. Some of it isn’t pretty. Anyways, they are a massive people. He has horns! Long bull horns. And an eye patch, though I dare not ask why or how that occurred. He wears this harness upon his chest for armor and wields an axe the size of me! Yet he is the softest and kindest person I have met. Making sure I have eaten, rested, and he even asked if I needed sex! Maker, I haven’t blushed and stammered that bad since I was a teenage girl! I politely turned him down, which made his laughter even harder. Then he patted me on the shoulder and said his tent was always open to me. I am unsure how to take him.   
Dorian frets about him constantly. They fight back and forth and I have allowed their banter as neither side is truly intent to hurt the other. He also told me, that through family lineage he is my cousin! It was amazing to see such a thing. He promises to go into more details and spend time with me once we return. He also agrees with Cassandra in sending me to Vivenne. Anyways, I must go. Hawke should be here shortly with her Grey Warden friend and we must discover what is going on. I shall write to Skyhold first then here, once I know for certain. I do not have a good sense about this. I pray to the Maker this isn’t the answer. – HT  
Evening had fallen upon their encampment. Burning hot day gave way to chilly cool night. Hyacinth was speaking with Scout Harding when she heard a familiar voice behind her, “glad you could all wait up for us. I do hope there is something left for dinner,” Hawke dismounted from her horse, pulling a large veil off her head, “much better to ride at night, less chance of being burned alive and or eaten.”  
“Hawke,” Cassandra smiled, trying to be friendly and warm, “what news do you bring?”  
Waving her hands up she let out an exhausted yawn, “I’ll let my dear friend Stroud explain,” she waved over as her companion also removed a lengthy cloak and head cover.  
“Hello Inquisitor, I am Warden Stroud. Hawke has spoken very highly of you,” his tired face spoke of his recent hardships, deeps lines carved across his forehead and around his cheeks were caked with thick desert sand. “We have much to discuss, may we at least sit and perhaps some water for a weary traveller?”  
Leading him over to the center of camp Blackwall brought him a skin filled with fresh water. Sitting upon a log he drank deeply before drawing in a deep breath. “Hawke informed me you have encountered the darkspawn magister, Corypheus. If he is alive as she stated then it would make sense what has befallen our Order. A few weeks ago, all the Wardens of Orlais started to hear the Calling. Believing our time was close, Warden Commander Clarel sought a way to save Thedas from the darkspawn threat. Without Grey Wardens, the Blight would be left unchecked. Only a Grey Warden can slay an Archdemon.” Hanging his head, he tossed a hand full of sand at the fire, “she has come up with a ritual that involves blood magic. Trying to bind demons to mages.”   
“Binding demons?” Hyacinth tried to wrap her head around it. There was always talks. Always the young apprentices thinking about what ifs while their lessons with the Senior Enchanter began. Questions about whether it could be done and to what end? What good could come from binding a demon to themselves?  
“Before you speak, know that a Grey Warden has the right to fight the Blight and the darkspawn using any means necessary. Commander Clarel is taking this quite literally. She believes by binding these demons we could traverse the Deep Roads and eradicate the darkspawn and the two remaining Old Gods before they can be tainted and become Archdemons,” sitting up straight he took another long dreg from the water skin.  
“You’ll forgive me. I know nothing of this Calling you speak of and while I can understand wanting to save the world from the next Blight. I cannot wrap my head around making pacts with demons. Why is it that they chase you?” Hyacinth could see the pain in the man’s expression as he hung the skin over his knee.  
“My lady, I cannot explain the Calling, it is part of becoming a Grey Warden and held in secrecy. What I can tell you is, that normally Warden’s only hear it when their time is closing to an end. They chase me because I stood against Clarel’s mad plan. When Hawke told me of Corypheus, I wondered if perhaps he was behind this. Rumors in the Order state that while he was imprisoned, he could alter the minds of those tainted by the Blight. Perhaps we are just a bit different.” Standing he stretched his legs, “it is late and we have ridden hard to reach here. A couple hours rest and we can head to the ritual tower. It is easier to travel at night, less chance of catching sun sickness. Is there a place I can rest?”   
“Come this way,” Blackwall nodded showing the man to a tent nearby.   
Hyacinth sat alone, watching the fire as she played the thoughts over in her mind. How sad and desperate they were. Trying to storm the Deep Roads and save everyone before they died themselves. Except they weren’t dying and easily enough this must be the demon army the dark future spoke of. At least that was one less surprise she could count on. Heading to a lone table by her tent she sat down and began writing.  
Cullen Rutherford’s Private Journals, dated three weeks from the date Hyacinth left:  
We received word from Hyacinth. I was pleased to hear from here, but the timing and sentiment behind the writing was unsettling. It seems the Grey Warden’s have begun binding demons to their mages. All to save the world from the next Blight. While I can understand and even respect their wish to leave the world a better place, I cannot wrap my mind around binding demons. Of course, it was all a ploy. They went to the ritual tower to find some Tevinter Magister seeking to aid Corypheus. Using the binding spell to not only bound the demon to the mage but it bound the mage’s mind and freewill to Corypheus himself!   
I find myself at a lack of words and in utter shock that such heroes be made pawns in this creature’s game. Hawke and her friend Ser Stroud gave chase after this Magister Livius Erimond. Word has reached they were travelling towards Adamant. The lone, sad fortress of old. It is a couple days ride from the ritual tower in the Western Approach and Hawke wished to garner their numbers before we launched an all-out attack.   
Josephine has begun making contacts with nobility. I informed her that the walls of Adamant are old, built before modern siege weaponry. If we were to receive the use of trebuchets we could easily penetrate the walls and force our way through. It appears to be the only recourse as Leliana informed us the spell used would render the mages unable to control themselves. We do not have enough Templars within our ranks to use their abilities to quell such attacks.   
Once Hyacinth returns we will inform her of the efforts made on her behalf. From there it is entirely likely we shall begin the long march to Adamant. If they truly are binding mages to demons there is no telling the damage they could inflict. I shutter at the thought. She should reach the front gates by morning.   
It seems my wish to clear my mind and speak to her will have to wait. Inquisition duties and the betterment of Thedas must always take top priority. – CR  
Hyacinth yawned as the horse lazily trotted up the gateway to Skyhold, Blackwall’s warm arms holding her tightly, “it is wonderful to be home, if only for a short time,” she sighed.   
“My lady, rest tonight. I doubt we will be here long. If I know your council, they will have already begun preparations and be ready to leave at day break,” Blackwall guided the horse towards the stables.  
“Thank you, I shall try. Though all I wish for is a simple bath. That may be the only thing I will get right tonight,” she chuckled as he helped her down, “you should speak to her, it cannot hurt.”  
Shaking his head, he blushed, “no, my lady. I cannot bother her now. You require her at her best.”  
Letting out a defeated sigh Hyacinth shook her head, “then rest tonight. I need your sword arm at it’s best.” Smiling she turned to make her way to her quarters, praying a large tub awaited. She’d written Josephine about putting a tub in her quarters the fifth day into her trip and she was praying now that it had been done.   
“My lady!” Leliana’s voice called her from the top of the stairwell, just outside the main Keep doors, “a word, if you would.”  
Nodding she climbed the stairs, “does the council convene at this hour?” Hyacinth smiled, exhausted from the journey.  
“For you, yes,” Leliana smiled half tugging her down the hall, “we have made progress and plans for Adamant. We only need your word.”  
Torches lit the hall, people long since having cleared out for the evening. Walking through Josephine’s office they reached the war room doors. Inside Cullen and Josephine stood pouring over several documents, “good to be home,” Hyacinth sighed, “please, keep it short.”  
Josephine’s chuckle lit up the room, “yes, my lady. We have procured trebuchets, and Cullen has fortified the men. We are ready to march when you give the word.”  
“How will we know where they are holding this ritual?” Hyacinth yawned as she touched the table.   
“My agents found the blueprints to the old fortress. It was built long enough ago that we figure here,” she pointed at the unrolled scroll upon the table, “is where they will attempt to manifest their end. It is the largest, most open section of the fortress. A trebuchet round here,” pointing to an exterior wall she witnessed Cullen nod, “should give us the best hope to reach the site in time.”  
Yawning again Hyacinth nodded, “sounds like a solid plan. Casualty projections, Commander?” she rubbed sleep from her eyes and tried to focus on the words.  
“It will not be an easy fought match, but with the trebuchet we have a higher chance of limiting the numbers. I am projecting a couple hundred at most. It will depend on securing a foothold on these exterior walls,” pointing to the map he drew his finger along the battlements, “we need to clear the Wardens off and get our people in. Perhaps once inside you, your companions and Hawke may be able to swing the tides.”  
Nodding along she cleared her throat, “then we should march as soon as day breaks. It was a nine-day trek for our small party. I assume it will be much longer with the army. The last word I got from Hawke, they were not ready and awaiting several more of their brethren to return before finishing their ritual. If we are lucky we may get there before and stop them,” yawning again she waved her hands, “perhaps you can fill me in along the path tomorrow. I do apologies but I have had preciously little rest. And I am praying to the Maker, that I can at least get in a bath before I fall asleep.”  
Josephine smiled and let out a hearty laugh, “the tub has been placed in your quarters and should be filled with steaming hot water, right now. Go, we can finish up and Cullen will provide you with all the details as you march.”  
“Cullen? Then if you wish to brief me, you know where I will be. I do apologize but I really must get to my bath. The smell of dead varghest is lingering in my nose and without the constant fresh wind I fear I may be sick soon. Forgive me,” she clutched her stomach and fled to her quarters.  
Cullen waited for her to leave the room before he burst out into laughter. Leliana eyed Cullen, “something amusing you?”  
“Very much so,” he snorted as he picked up a few papers, “varghest are the least of her concern, but it is good to see she has grown more confident. I shall bother her with these in the morning,” clutching several sheets of parchment, he turned to Leliana, “thank you for finding the schematics. That will greatly reduce casualty numbers and improve our chances. Keep ear out for the Empress. If the other part of the dark future is to be true, surely Corypheus will enact that assassination sooner when he loses his demon army.”  
Josephine snuffed out a few candles and held the door wide, “have no fear Commander. The Empress is holding a ball, in a few months at Halamshiral. An attempt to bridge peace between herself and her cousin Grand Duke Gaspard. While we have not been formally invited, I can obtain us tickets to the event easily enough. While you are away, I shall begin sending the letters required. Be safe Commander,” nodding she ushered everyone through before closing the door behind them.  
Laying back in the hot water she struggled to stay awake. Gripping the bottle of hair wash in her hand she began lathering and scrubbing her scalp. Eyes closed she enjoyed the feel of nearly three weeks of sand, sweat and blood coming clean. Dipping her head below the water she rinsed before applying the softening cream. Sitting with her hair twisted up, atop of her head she relished the feel of her room. Stars twinkled and shone brightly through the open balcony door, a soft cool breeze passed across her face.   
“My lady,” his usual baritone voice was soft and sultry as Cullen crested the top of the stairs.   
Clasping her arms across her chest tightly she dipped down into the water, “Cullen! What are you doing here?”   
“I came to personally deliver the letters we discussed at our meeting,” fanning several parchment sheets before himself, he licked his lips as he placed them on the desk a few feet from the tub, “though perhaps I might stay for something else.”  
Her breath hitched in her throat as he tugged his shirt over his head, taut, defined muscles stretched and flexed as he slowly dragged the fabric off. Tossing it at her, it covered her face. Scrambling to remove it she felt his warm hands upon her shoulders. Hauling the shirt off, her hair cascaded down, “Cullen, what’s gotten into you?” she was breathless as his lips graced her neck, hands slipping into the water.  
“I realized I had made a terrible mistake earlier, and I wished to correct it. My lady,” his lips traversed her shoulder, up her neck to hoover just over the sensitive flesh of her ear, “I plan on showing you how very wrong I was, and how very sorry I am.” Wrapping his hand in her hair he pulled her back, kissing her lips with a vigor and enthusiasm she was ill prepared for.   
Moaning loudly against him she tried to move. Expecting his lips to be soft, she felt everything shift and her mouth tasted of salt and iron. Opening her eyes, she groaned. “Ugh, sleeping… Maker help me,” she sighed. Her hearth’s fire had begun to die down and the salt she had tasted was the sweat and blood mixed in the water. Rinsing her hair out she reached for her towel. Drying off she felt frustrated. Adding a few larger logs to the fire she flopped down on her bed. Loneliness began to creep in as the silence of the room sunk in. Crawling underneath several furs, she snuggled in best she could. Whispering a few quiet prayers to the Maker she struggled to fight back tears.   
Loud banging on her door awoke her, “Maker… what?!” she growled as she turned her back to the sound.  
“My lady, we are awaiting your presence before we march. The Commander requested I come get you. His words were, ‘if she refuses to come down I shall personally drag her out, with or without her attire!’ those were his words ma’am.”   
Grunting she rose quickly, realizing she fell asleep naked, “if the Commander wants a private viewing tell him he will have to wait till we return from Adamant!” hearing the messenger scamper away she groaned, “I… ugh!” Cursing she hastened to get dressed, “my luck that moron will say verbatim what I yelled in jest. Note to self: avoid the Commander.” Dressing in travelling clothes she strapped her new sword to her hip and buckler over her shoulder. Braiding her hair, she walked down the steps. Reach the main door Varric chuckled and scooted in beside her, “so I hear you’re offering private showings now. You should have seen Curly’s face when the messenger returned your reply. Priceless!” Clutching his sides, he let out a belly laugh that threatened to cut off his oxygen. Wiping a tear from his eye he patted her back, “I never knew he was capable of turning that red.”  
Hyacinth groaned, rubbing her forehead, “I should have known the half-wit would repeat my words. Maker, he really turned that red?” Looking at Varric he burst into laughter again, nodding and unable to speak, “this shall make the journey rather, interesting.”  
Hyacinth’s Diary Entry labelled, Arrived at Adamant:  
We arrived mid afternoon in the Western Approach. Our illustrious Commander decided it would be best to set up camp several miles from Adamant itself. ‘Best to hide our approach,’ he said. I would incline to agree, if we weren’t a marching army over a dessert. We did manage to find a relatively hidden section behind a wide dune, it hid the trebuchets quite nicely to be fair. He wishes to wait till nightfall to progress onwards and begin the assault. Claiming it will give us an edge against our opponent. We will march in relative darkness, our guide being the stars that have already been mapped out by Scout Harding.   
Our journey was long and tiresome. Sleep did not come easily for me, at the least. Several groups of our men wished to speak with ‘the Herald,’ to be ‘blessed’ as it were. The Chantry Mothers would scold me for what I did but if it gives these men the will to fight and the courage within then I sense no ill will in my fumbled prayers. This continued for the first four or so nights. Men and women asking for blessings or to hear their confessions. It was late in the evening before I managed to get away to bed. Only by the thankful grace of Blackwall. He has been such a dear friend to me. Our men respect him too, and his presence has given them hope that perhaps we will not be slaughtering the last of a great Order.   
I have not had a chance to speak with Cullen, outside of public business. Perhaps he hasn’t forgiven me for my rather intrepid message. The more I think about that message and his reaction, the more questions I have. I try to push these thoughts to the side, I can hardly afford to be distracted right now. I will write once we return to camp. I have a good set of people near me and faith we can save these people. Ser Stroud is dead set on stopping Clarel and making this right. Hawke has rejoined us and Varric is very relieved to see her. Cullen, not so much. If I ever had reason to believe he was with her, I know for sure now I was wrong. His coldness towards her is enough to sway my mind. I must speak to him once this is concluded!   
Night is falling quickly and people are moving about in the camp. I must get prepared. I shall write when I have the chance again. – HT  
Strapping the last piece of armor on she walked out of her tent, people busily gearing up. Siege ladders and trebuchets moving towards their goal, foot soldiers sticking closely to the large equipment.  
“My lady,” Blackwall stood before her in gleaming Grey Warden plate mail, “we move to take Adamant. Ser Stroud and Hawke went ahead. Commander Cullen wants us to hang back and follow the second wave. He believes it will guarantee us a cleaner entrance into the fortress.”  
Following his lead, they pushed through the scattering crowds to where Cullen wanted them to be. Cassandra, Dorian and Iron Bull stood ready. Watching from the top of the dune, the first wave of the trebuchets began their assault, launching boulders into the fortress walls. Walls that crumbled and exploded with tremendous force when the boulders came down. Men standing upon the battlements were sent sailing as the Inquisition’s siege ladders began to rise and their men poured over the top. “Our turn,” Blackwall grinned spinning his blade in his hand.  
Inquisition forces loaded a battering ram up to the front gate and collectively began slamming the oversized metal and wood bar, back and forth. Hyacinth snickered seeing the head of the battering ram was shaped like the fist holding a half-spiked halo, the same as the tiny pins upon the war table. Each swing made the door creak and splinter. As they drew closer the door finally gave way, Inquisition men and women poured in, securing their hold of the entry way.   
“Get inside,” Cullen shouted batting away an arrow with his shield, “we shall hold the entry. If you could take some of the pressure off the battlements we could secure a proper foothold.” A shrieking growl pierced the air as they all craned their necks to look upwards. Flying over the edge, a dead Grey Warden tumbled to the ground before them. Standing in his place a demon, eyes glowing like hell fire staring down at them. “They have already begun summoning demons, we must hurry if we are to stop this madness!”   
Hyacinth nodded, drawing her sword and testing the straps on her buckler, “keep the men safe, I will not tolerate needless death on my part,” she didn’t bother to look up, “we shall secure the battlements. Be ready,” she turned back to Blackwall and her companions, “we need to move!”   
Stroud met up with them, helping guide them through the fortress. They managed to save several groups of the Warden warrior who were unaffected by Corypheus’s touch. Pushing towards the battlements they dealt with wave after wave of demons, bound to their mage hosts. Hyacinth uttered prayers as they cut their way through, allowing the Inquisition forces to gain control of the battle. Hawke stayed on the battlements with Varric, Sera and Solas trying to stem the flow of demons as Hyacinth’s group traversed deeper towards their goal.   
Entering the main courtyard, Hyacinth let out a gasp. Several of the Warden mages stood before a glimmering, half dormant rift, “they… no!” she yelled trying to get their attention.  
“Clarel, don’t let them stop you. We are almost ready to bring the last one through. You cannot stop now,” Livius prodded her, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he glared down Hyacinth.  
Turning back to Blackwall, Hyacinth nodded. Blackwall took a step forward, “you may not know me, but I am a Warden, just as you are. I understood how it felt putting on this armor. That feeling like you could make a difference, saving the world from the Blight. If you go through with this plan, from this Tevinter bastard, you will be giving in to the thing you stand against. His master, the darkspawn Magister, Corypheus!” Blackwall’s moving speech held the crowd at bay, whispers rising to loud questions.  
Clarel stood, paled faced and shocked. Livius struggled to regain control, “lies, all lies! Come we must continue!” Clarel pulled her arm away from his slippery grasp, “no, these charges must be investigated. It is a heavy thing to lay at our feet. I have not heard that name in a long time…” she didn’t have time to finish as Livius knocked her down.  
“You, interloper!” he yelled out at Hyacinth, “I will not make the mistake I made before. My Master sent me a gift to deal with you and your people,” tapping his staff off the ground several times, the dragon that attacked at Haven, began to circle overhead.  
“Get down!” Hyacinth yelled casting a barrier over her group as the dragon launched a round of it’s special crystalized flaming breathes.   
“Brothers and sisters, our mage brethren are lost to us, under Corypheus’s control. We must stop them!” Stroud rushed past the barrier and drove his blade deep into the chest of a controlled mage.   
Hyacinth did her best to protect people from the dragon’s blasts as she charged forward. Seeing Clarel regain herself and chase after Livius she yelled back to her people, “we need to help Clarel! She ran up that way,” pointing towards a vast staircase leading deeper into the fortress.  
“I know where she is going, follow me!” Stroud chased after, Iron Bull, Blackwall, Cassandra and Hawke all quick on his heel. Hyacinth dragged a few steps behind, trying her best to shield people from the dragon. As it swooped around, it let out another blast before disappearing into the smoke ridden sky. Watching it take to the skies, Hyacinth scrambled to follow the group rushing to aid Clarel.   
Running through the fortress, everything became a blur. Stone, blood and demon remains crunched under her feet as she chased forward. Only Blackwall’s strong arm stopped her, “what…” his thick fingers touched her lips. Locking eyes with him, he quickly pointed up. Focusing she could hear the flapping of the dragon’s wings. Together her group stood under a small arch way looking out over an old bridge. Upon the bridge Clarel was confronting Livius.   
“You have destroyed us!” Clarel spat, furiously as she shot a bolt of lightning into him.  
Grunting he tried to get to his feet, “you did that to yourselves,” laughing he spit blood onto the stones, bracing himself against his staff, “all you needed was a little push. A promise of power and you couldn’t wait to get your hands bloody!”  
Clarel circled around him and gripped her staff tightly. Yelling she cast him backwards, skidding across the bridge, “you will pay for this!”   
Before she could unleash another wave of punishment, the dragon roared and landed behind her. Blackwall held Hyacinth tight, “no, there’s nothing we can do about this. We must survive this.”  
Clarel gritted her teeth and cast out a blast of lightning, striking into the dragon’s chest, “Maker take you, blighted creature!” she shouted, as the dragon reared up, shrieking as it launched its attack. Gripping her tightly in its teeth, it shook her violently. Hyacinth held her hand over her mouth, fighting the urge to scream as the dragon tossed her to the ground. Her body bounced several times before she came to a stop. Reaching up she drew energy from her blood, “In war; Victory. In peace; Vigilance. In death,” as the dragon turned its attention to Hyacinth and her people Clarel used all she had left to explode her energy into the dragon’s chest.   
Stone and mortar flew into the air as the dragon’s scream shook the foundations. Chunks of bricking and dirt began to shift and tumble around them. Hyacinth fell to the ground and began to tumble towards the end of the bridge. Everything was falling apart and all of her group began trying to escape only to be viciously ripped into the falling debris. Without thinking Hyacinth held out her hand, energy ripped at the air around them. Tumbling downwards, together they slipped through the gash her mark created.   
Floating Hyacinth hovered just a few inches from the ground. Twisting her body, she reached out. As her finger made physical contact with the ground, the force holding her up gave way to gravity. Hitting the ground, she grunted. Standing up and brushing herself off she looked around her. Where there had been stone and mortar, blood and death, there was now quiet. Odd shaped pillars of dirt, marble and quartz spiked up into the sky. Misshaped rocks floated high above her, water pouring up into the air confused her. Taking a half step forward she felt the icy coolness of water seep into her boots, “where…”  
“The Fade, I believe,” Dorian’s voice groaned out a few feet from her, “my best guess is you opened a rift to the Fade made physical.” Brushing himself off he came closer, “we should find a way out before Maker knows what thinks of us a lunch.”  
“Yes, there was that unopened rift in the main hall!” Cassandra nodded coming closer, “if we can find it. We can return through it, then seal it shut behind us.”   
“First things first, is everyone alright?” Hyacinth looked around, gathering everyone up.  
“Perfectly peachy, minus the ankle deep freezing water. Almost reminds me of home,” Hawke snorted as she wiped dirt from her leather pants, “makes me miss the Gallows.”  
Rolling her eyes Hyacinth looked around, “where is Stroud? We’re missing Stroud?”  
“I… am here,” his voice was weak as he fumbled to make his way to them, “just a little disoriented, that is all.” Pointing across and empty vastness he smiled, “I believe we need head that way!”  
Hyacinth began walking along the shifting pathway, “it seems to want to take me where I want to go,” she mused as they walked.   
“Over there, look!” Cassandra gasped. Before them stood the Divine Justinia. Rushing towards her they all stopped to stare.  
Standing with her hands neatly folded in her lap the Divine smiled, “hello Inquisitor, friends,” she dipped slightly, bowing to the crowd around her, “please do not be frightened.”  
“Oh, I am past frightened, straight to totally terrified,” Iron Bull kept peaking over everyone’s shoulders.   
“You cannot possibly be the Divine, so what are you?” Hawke stood, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.  
“I am here to help, is that not good enough?” the Divine’s voice was soft and her expression unchanged as their group circled round, “do you know where you are, Inquisitor?”   
Shaking her head Hyacinth looked back at Cassandra, “we are in the Fade, physically in the Fade, right?”  
“Yes,” the Divine waved her arm for them to follow and began walking towards the rift in the sky. Ground beneath their feet altered and shifted to move towards their target, “you have entered a dangerous section of the Fade. The demon Warden Clarel tried to summon, the general to Corypheus’s army lies here. A powerful demon, known as Nightmare.”  
“Great, a terror demon,” Cassandra grunted as they pushed through the strange landscape.  
“Unlike its weaker brethren, this demon has grown fat from fear. Every demon that stepped from the rifts causing terror and nightmares, the panic within the Grey Wardens, your stolen memories,” she stopped to face Hyacinth, “yes it has dined well. If you hope to weaken it at all we must take back what it stole from you.”  
Several glowing wisps appeared behind her, “what? How do I?” Hyacinth spun to face the floating tuffs of ethereal smoke.  
“Use the anchor, pull them into yourself. Then you will remember,” taking a short step back the Divine waited.  
Raising her left hand, the anchor worked its own magics and with no effort, pulled in the wisps. Each wisp sent an icy shiver down her spine. As the last wisp disappeared into the anchor, Hyacinth felt dizzy.   
Before them all an image flicked in the mist. Men and women wearing the armor of the Grey Wardens sat upon a long table. Empty, vacant eyes glowed an eerie red as they mumbled spells. Hovering above them, the Divine was held in place, “why do you do this? You of all people?” she begged, helpless to struggle against the mages’ spells.   
“Hold the sacrifice still,” Corypheus’s imposing frame entered the dimly lit room, the orb held out in his hand.  
“Someone, please, help me!” she cried out as energy pulled her life force into the orb in Corypheus’s hand.  
Double doors burst open as Hyacinth came into the room, “what’s going on here?”   
Briefly interrupting Corypheus’s focus, the Divine could move her arm. In doing so she reached out and slapped the orb, sending it sailing towards Hyacinth. Bending down Hyacinth gripped it in her left hand. Explosive energy enveloped them, and the mist dissolved.   
Hyacinth dropped to her knees, gripping her marked hand, “it…. It was all an accident…”  
The Divine bent down touched Hyacinth’s shoulder, “child. If you believe in the Maker and his work then you know this was no accident.” Looking up at her companions she slowly rose, “we don’t have much time. We need to move; the demon is aware of us now.”  
Moving through the shifting landscape they came to a quivering barrier, “you must hold off the demons, I will get us through!” the Divine shed her human look, luminous, celestial light burst from her clothes as they disappeared and her spirit shape broke through, “hurry,” the Divine’s voice still spoke through the spirit.  
Swallowing hard Hyacinth looking up to see giant rats scurrying towards her, “rats… they’re everywhere…” she gripped her sword hilt, hand shaking.  
“Rats? You see rats? That would be an improvement to what I see,” Bull swung his giant ax and looped off the head of the rat behind her.  
“These are mini terrors, I’d wager,” Dorian cast a wall of fire in front of them, “personalized for optimum horror.”  
Stroud staggered and gripped his side as he slashed away, “we must push them back. Fight through your fear, do not let the demon feed!”  
Keeping the terrors at bay the spirit broke through the barrier, “hurry we must move forward, we are not far,” she floated above them as the terrors scattered and withdrew.  
“Ah, I see we have guests in my humble lair,” a booming voice filled the air around them, “it would be very rude of me not to introduce myself.”  
“We are nearly there, keep moving!” the spirits voice over powered the creature, “Inquisitor, take back the last of your memories and we may flee this place!”  
Once again wisps appeared and as before she pulled them in. Mist surrounded them and played her lost memory. Hyacinth was in the Fade as they were now, the Divine calling to her, “hurry, the demons!” she shouted helping pull her up towards a rift. Hyacinth raced forward to exit when she heard a grunt behind her. Turning she saw the Divine, her face contorted in pain, “go!” she uttered as blood slipped over her lip. Before Hyacinth could do anything, the Divine was ripped into the void. Tears streaming down her face Hyacinth jumped through the rift.   
“You… died….” Hyacinth choked back tears as she looked at the spirit, “I… I’m sorry… please Maker….”  
“We cannot linger, we are nearly there,” the spirit moved towards a massive opening, the exit before them.  
“Did you think you could leave so easily,” the voice boomed out, filling their heads and shaking them to their knees, “how rude, not to introduce yourselves!”   
Hyacinth gripped her head tight, the voice crept through her skull, “you know they’ll all die in the end because of you. Your lack of experience will lead you to make the wrong choice and Corypheus will consume them. He shall slowly render the flesh from Cullen personally, before your eyes. You can watch as he begs and pleads for him to stop.” Hyacinth screamed, unable to bare the words, “make it stop!”  
An enormous spider creature dropped down and filled the space, blocking them from the exit. Glowing intensely the spirit lifted into the air, “please pass a message to Leliana for me. Tell her, ‘I failed her too,’.” Surging forward the spirit slammed into the body of the spider. Wailing loudly, it tumbled back into the abyss.   
“Just get past it, we can seal the rift!” Cassandra yelled as they made a break for the exit. Cassandra pushed Bull through, then Blackwall. As Blackwall broke through he grabbed and hauled Cassandra after him. Rushing forward Hawke, Stroud and Hyacinth tried to reach the rift. As they neared the demon appeared, long tentacles hung from its skeletal head, sinewy arms and claws appeared from under a tattered black robe.   
“Damnit!” Hawke twirled her staff, “you two go, I’ll handle this thing!”  
“No!” Stroud knocked her staff down, “I will stay, I am not making the journey back,” lifting his hand from his side, scarlet billowed and stained his glove, “I am dead either way.”  
Hawke nodded and grabbed Hyacinth, “time to go sweet girl,” she rushed forward as Stroud threw a dagger, sinking deep into the shoulder of the demon.   
Hyacinth screamed as Hawke dove them forward, holding her tightly through the rift. Crumpling into a heap Hawke scrambled to her feet, tugging Hyacinth up, “we must seal the rift, or we’re all dead!” Pulling Hyacinth’s hand up, Hawke cradled her tightly as the magic worked on its own. As the rift closed the demons still fighting on the field dissipated back into the Fade. Wardens and Inquisition forces cheered as the field calmed.   
“Looks like you did it, Herald of Andraste,” Hawke carefully pulled Hyacinth to her feet, “your people will sing tales of this victory for ages to come.”  
“Stroud….” Hyacinth choked out the word as she looked around her, “he…”  
“Hush,” Hawke held her tightly, “sometimes we win, sometimes we lose. He gave so we could take the fight to Corypheus himself. He will pay for Stroud, for them all.” Tears hung in her eyes as she struggled to keep them in. “Come, let’s get you something strong to drink, and perhaps a couple hands of Wicked Grace before I go.” Hawke held her tight and helped her down from the platform.  
“What do we do now? Without Stroud, we have no senior officer.” A nervous looking man spoke in Grey Warden plate, “Lady Inquisitor we wish to make this right. Let us stand with you against this ancient darkspawn.”  
“Stroud wanted to make things right, he fought and died to do that,” Hyacinth held her head high, trying to be the Inquisitor they needed, “I would gladly except any help your Order could give. We face a monster, and we require monster hunters.” Getting down with Hawke they both stumbled off.


	12. Nurturing the Seeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning "PTSD symptoms" that's all I'm going to say

Hyacinth’s head pounded and she was vaguely aware of the fur blankets. She was also aware of the feminine arm draped over her, and the lack of clothing both had. Groaning she tried to raise up to her elbows, “ugh,” she flopped back down.  
“Well not my usual, ‘thank you,’ but I’ll take it,” Hawke snickered as she stretched and sat up.   
“Oh… oh no…” Hyacinth threw her arm over her eyes hoping everything was just another weird dream.  
Giggling Hawke worked a quick healing spell, “let me tend that hangover. First time drunk, I take it. Well I would highly recommend you drink again, to this lovely excess.”   
“Please, tell me I can look people in the eyes when I walk out of this tent,” Hyacinth pulled the blanket up to her chin and began fumbling around to find clothes.  
“Well,” Hawke began slowly dressing, “you beat Varric twice in Wicked Grace, which I assure you is quite the feat. He owes you a few gold for that. The Commander may be a sore spot,” chuckling she pulled her corset over her head, “you may have slapped his ass and whispered something risky in his ear. He left the tent rather red faced. If you truly don’t remember, I say an opportunity is lost.”  
Grumbling under her breathe she quickly dressed, “Maker, no more drink till we return to Skyhold.”  
“I… won’t be returning with you,” Hawke stopped and shrugged, “I’m heading to the Grey Warden’s headquarters. It is and will be a long trip. I probably won’t see you again, and it is for the best,” pulling her corset tight she pulled her hair up into a messy bundle before tying it off. “Though you have sent me off with a wonderful smile,” running her fingers over teeth marks upon her shoulder she used her magic to clear them away, “it’ll be our secret. Well, unless half the camp heard us.”  
“We… we… did we?” Hyacinth flushed as she struggled to pull her tunic over her head.  
“Did we ever,” Hawke laughed loudly, “no shame in it my sweet girl. Nothing wrong in a little relaxation.” Standing tall she brushed her leggings clear and laced the last boot up, “I shall let you prepare. You have quite the journey ahead of you. Take care, Inquisitor.” Dipping out the tent flaps Hawke disappeared.  
Dressing in silence she tried to figure out what she was going to do. At the least she knew she wanted to apologize to Cullen. Whatever she had said, was in the heat of the moment and with far too much alcohol. Taking a deep breath, she marched out of the tent with her head held high. People whispered and pointed as they went about packing up the tents and equipment, preparing to travel back. Scanning the crowd, she found Cullen directing people. Walking up to him she tapped his shoulder, “Commander, may I have a word with you?”  
“Inquisitor,” he scowled over at her, “you may speak to me once we return to Skyhold, Rylen!” he barked, a man rushed over, “take the Inquisitor and her companions back to Skyhold, immediately.”  
“Yes, sir!” Rylen’s thick Starkhaven accent cut the air as he rushed off.  
“Cullen, please,” Hyacinth tried to maintain a level head.  
“No, it is clear you should return to Skyhold without delay. Perhaps by the time we arrive back you will have your head firmly set about your shoulders,” he snarled at her, his brow knit tightly.  
“Cullen!” she tried to grab his arm as he turned to walk away.  
“I will not be made a fool of before my men. The Inquisition will not be a joke at your whim,” he ripped his arm from her grasp, “go to Skyhold.” Storming off he did not look back.  
“Ma’am please,” Rylen returned holding the reins of a horse, “he’s a hurting man ma’am and I apologize for him taking his frustrations out on you. We lost some good people in that mess.”  
“So it seems,” Hyacinth nodded and allowed Rylen to guide her to the edge of the camp, Cassandra, Blackwall and Iron Bull with her, “do you think he will…”  
“Forgive you lass, aye. He just needs a wee bit of space. See to him when we return. He’ll be right in the head come then,” helping her up to sit with Blackwall, Rylen nodded, “keep her safe will ya? The Commander fancies her, despite his hot head.”  
Chuckling Blackwall kicked the horse into a gallop and headed towards Skyhold.  
Personal Diary entry of Cullen Rutherford, labelled ‘Regret’:  
I have made a most terrible mistake. I allowed my emotions to get the better of myself. I feel like such a hypocrite. How could I have professed such anger. Jealousy. Yet I cannot claim it as I have no rights to her. Why am I incapable of controlling myself around her? It is beyond upsetting. I could not bare to see her in the arms of someone else and in my haste, I sent her back to Skyhold. I regret my decision.   
With the amount of ale, she consumed I doubt very much she remembers the risky words she ushered so close to my ear, “find me at Skyhold and take me, leave me spent and wanting at your knees.” Maker if I was a weaker man I would have taken her back to my tent and left her a quaking mess. Instead I blushed like a foolish teenager caught in the Chantry.   
I know I owe her an apology once I return. I can only hope she will except it as what it is. – CR  
Hyacinth sat about the fire, poking it with a stick she had found a few feet away. Her elbow on her knee, and hand upon her face she huffed, “this is ridiculous! I feel like a child being scolded.”   
Chuckling Iron Bull sat beside her, “you kinda banged his ex, in his camp, after teasing the man. Ya, he was nice.”  
“I was drunk, I…” sighing she yeaned back, “Maker I have made a mess.”  
“Nothing a few drinks and a game of Wicked Grace can’t solve,” Iron Bull laughed as he handed her a bottle, “he’ll get over it. He banged her first anyways.”  
Tossing the stick in the fire she rolled her eyes, “I know they were together before, in Kirkwall or something. I got the hint.”  
“He banged her before she left for Crestwood. Hawke enjoys her drinks and discussing her pass times, which is incredible,” Bull laughed taking a long swig of his ale, “thought you knew boss.”  
“Oh,” Hyacinth sat back, “I didn’t know.”  
“I’m sorry, thought it was public knowledge. You were discussing his, um… abilities rather loudly around the table when you were drinking with Hawke. She really didn’t spare any details.”  
Bull rose and patted her on the back, “take it easy boss, we’ll be to Skyhold in a couple days. Cullen and the men will be back a couple days after that. Take a moment to think before you do something you’re going to regret.”  
The remainder of the journey, Hyacinth kept to herself. They made good time, arriving through the front gates of Skyhold three days ahead of schedule. Ignoring everyone she walked straight to her room. Bathing and changing her clothes she made a bee line for Josephine’s office. “Any news on the Empress? I believe that is the last lead we have at the moment.” Pacing across the room she touched the fresh cut flowers on Josephine’s desk, “these are beautiful!”  
“They are a gift, from Ser Blackwall I am told. Leliana had one of her agents follow him. Seems these flowers only grow near the highest peaks and he retrieves a fresh batch whenever these wilt. While you bathed he had these delivered,” waving her hand for Hyacinth to take a seat she began organizing her papers. “As it turns out, we have word from Orlais. The Empress is holding a ball, in a little over a month. I have managed to gain us invites.”  
“Invites?” Hyacinth relaxed into her chair, “why would we need to attend this ball?”  
“All of our messages never seem to reach the Empress. There is a high chance the assassin will strike at he ball. Murdering the Empress in public would throw Orlais into chaos. Exactly what Corypheus would seek.” Sliding a piece of parchment forward Josephine smiled, “you will need to read these books. They are the best written accounts of the Grand Game we have at our disposal. You will also need to meet with a seamstress, and take dancing lessons.”  
Hyacinth nervously giggled, “I… oh… well… do we have no one here that could instruct me to dance?”   
Josephine smiled widely, “I was hoping you would see that option. Leliana has experience playing the Game and dancing in court balls. Dorian may also be of use in instructing you since he is a high borne elite in Tevinter. Lady Vivenne could instruct you on the Game and dancing. I have attended a fair share of balls and could lend my aid on both. It is up to you, Inquisitor, to decide what you would like to do.”  
“May I think on it? I shall begin reading this list, and I will be sure to make a choice soon.” Raising from her seat she headed to the rotunda. Taking the stair well along the wall she travelled upwards to the sprawling library. “Dorian,” she smiled seeing him in his alcove reading a small novel, “could I get your assistance? I’m looking for these books,” she held out the parchment.  
Marking his book, he stood and tucked it into the arm of the chair, “let me see,” reading over the list he let out a fit of giggles, “they have you reading these to prepare for the Orlesian ball? Such cuteness!” He began pulling books off the shelves, “here they are. Once you have read these I would recommend speaking to someone and taking these lessons on personally. Without doing these things, one is at a high disadvantage. I do hope, dear cousin, your Circle training can get you through this.”  
Giggling herself she nodded, “I intend to read first, then to practice. I have a month at the least so there is plenty of time to work out all the kinks as it were.” Carrying the armful of books she waddled back down the stairs and to her quarters.   
Several days later Cullen marched through the main gates with his men. Tired and worn he dragged himself up the steps to his tower, waving off several messengers and scouts with letters, “slip them under the door. I do not wish to be disturbed for several hours.” Running his hand over his growing beard he relished the thought of cleaning up. Closing the door to his tower he leaned against it heavily. The long journey back to Skyhold had taken more time than he thought and Hyacinth’s potions had run out a few days ago. Hands shaking, he managed to reach his desk. Sinking into his chair he tried to focus on his breathing, trying to count each one, slowly and steady.   
Hyacinth heard the horn blow, signalling the return of the army. Dead set on confronting Cullen she tramped down her steps and across the main hall. People swiftly scattering to clear her path. Cutting through the rotunda she easily passed over the bridge. Standing before his door, she clenched her fists. Tossing over what she was going to say she bit her lip. As she was about to enter she could hear something through the door. Opening it just a crack she saw him, half crumpled over his desk, armor discarded he stood bare chested. She could see his skin was slick with sweat, a sickly pale colour as his arms wobbled. He was staring intently at something just out of her view. Opening the door, wider she slipped in.  
“Maker enough!” he growled loudly picking up the small wooden box and throwing it across the room. Glass from a philter shattered on impact, spraying across Hyacinth’s face. Brass instruments scattered in all directions. A larger piece, with a sharp pointed end bounced off the stone wall and stuck into Hyacinth’s shoulder. Letting out a pained scream she dropped to her knees, brushing glass from her hair and tenderly touching the metal instrument. “No!” Cullen yelled as he tried to come around the desk only to fall heavily upon his face, a gash appearing upon his sharp cheek bone, “Hyacinth, I didn’t hear you come in... Maker please…” he struggled to get up, his legs like jelly underneath him.  
“Don’t, don’t move,” her hands shook as she grasped the end of the instrument, “I… I can do this.” Taking in a deep breath she poured magic into the wound, icy coolness freezing the pain away.   
Cullen could do nothing but watch as she pulled the instrument out and began healing the wound. Tears welled up in his eyes, “Maker… I’ve failed everyone.”  
Knocking the last of the glass from her hair she rushed over to his side, “when, when did you run out?” touching his forehead, he was on fire. “No, no, no,” she grumbled as his skin began to turn cold.   
“I am..,“ Cullen’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and his breathing faltered.   
Hyacinth rolled him onto his back and began healing him. Hand clasped over his heart, pouring everything she had into him, “no, you can’t do this to me,” tears poured from her face. Bending her head to his chest she heard nothing. No beating of his strong heart, no deep breathes into strong lungs. Slamming her fist into his chest she screamed. Slamming her fist down again Cullen let out a gasping breath. Pulling him up onto her lap she cradled him close, “I’m here, you’re ok, please be ok.” Tenderly stroking his face, she cleaned away the blood and healed his cut, not leaving a trace of the injury. Carding her fingers through his hair she felt her anger melt away.   
“Hyacinth,” his voice slowly grew strong as he lay in her arms, “I am so sorry.”  
“Hush, no you don’t have to be,” she kissed his forehead, “I am the fool. I came to speak with you, tell you I was sorry. About everything. I know about you and Hawke, I’m sure you know about my drunken stupidity. I was upset with you, and I guess you were upset with me. I’m hoping I’m right on that part, otherwise I’ve made a wonderfully messy confession.”   
Choking as he tried to laugh Cullen attempted to reach up, strength slowly returning to his body, “yes, you are correct, my lady. I am the fool here. Thinking I could handle this on my own, yet with all you know of me you have not ran. Why?”  
Taking his hand in hers she rubbed his palm against her cheek, “I always did enjoy a difficult case,” chuckling she smiled, “I told you in Haven, I was in awe of your strength. Lesser men would have died with what you endured and yet you are here. Here, and well,” she leaned in, cupping his face in her hand, “you are you.”  
“Demons asked him questions that made him hurt, but no matter what Uldred did not change him. He is soft when you hold him,” the small boy sat upon Cullen’s desk rocking his legs back and forth.  
Hyacinth let out a strangled squawk as Cullen eyed the boy, “this is Cole, Inquisitor,” he struggled to regain his composure, “he was the boy who aided us at Haven. Solas informed me he is a spirit of compassion. He,” grunting Cullen heaved himself up onto his elbows, cold stone digging in, “he wishes to help.”  
“He is, most unsettling,” Hyacinth rose up to see the boy, “hello, Cole?”  
“Warm hands, healing hands, keeping people safe and safely away. But he’s different, he’s special. Makes my cheeks burn and tummy flutter, does he see me as I see him?” Cole’s ghostly grey eyes peered through her.  
“I… yes,” she blushed looking back at Cullen who was already rising to his feet, “you wish to help? Perhaps you can be of help. There are many wounded from the battle, can you aid them?”  
“Yes, I like to help,” the boy tilted his head and disappeared.   
Hyacinth’s felt a shudder pass over her at the disturbance the boy left in his wake, “that was, interesting,” she turned to see Cullen gone from her view, “Cullen?” she looked around.  
Steady clanging rang out every few seconds, “I am above. I shall be down in a moment,” his voice was stronger now as the clanging continued.   
Unsure of what to do she sat in the chair across from his desk, nervously playing with her fingers she picked at the skin around her nail beds. “I… uh… did you hear all I said when you were… um on the floor, over there,” she slapped herself in the forehead. Spending all this time thinking about everything she wanted to say and this was what she managed to utter. She felt embarrassed, and completely unprepared. Listening hard for anything she heard the clanging stop, “Cullen?”  
“Forgive my silence,” his voice was back to its usual even baritone, strong and thick. “I prefer not to talk while I tend to my face, best to avoid cuts,” he slowly climbed down the ladder, face cleanly shaved and hair neatly kempt.  
“I see,” Hyacinth smiled. It was good to see he was rebounding well and there were no negative effects from her efforts.  
“I…” shaking his head he sat being his desk, “this may sound off and I apologize now, but my head is a mess at the moment. Would you, could you come back later tonight? I assure you I will be much better company.” He smiled faintly as he began collecting papers off his desk.  
“Of course,” she jumped up. It was a terrible time to speak after having experienced such a trauma, “I shall see you later tonight. Perhaps a game of chess in the gardens? Josephine has done an impressive job bringing in such lovely flowers and plants. I would be very honored to show you the work I have put in,” she beamed as she stood and straightened her clothes. “By dinner time it should be quiet.”  
Smiling he agreed, “I shall see you in the garden, tonight, my lady.”  
Hyacinth spent the rest of the day training with Vivenne. Learning the artform of the Knight Enchanter. A skilled warrior of magic and might, wielding a blade made of raw arcane force. Vivienne showed her all she knew, handing her several books to research the origins of the Knight Enchanters and Hyacinth excitedly scooped them up and rushed back to her quarters. Some hours past and she had finished reading all she could. Out in the training yard she worked hard on her technique, perfecting her abilities. Vivienne smiled upon her, “my dear, you learn quickly. I dare say you shall make a fine Knight Enchanter. One of the best,” she patted Hyacinth on the shoulder  
“Thank you so much, this is incredible,” wielding her blade of pure arcane force she beamed, “now if only I can master the Winter Palace, we should be alright.”  
“My dear, if you wish to play the Game and play it well, you had best speak to Sister Leliana. She would be your best teacher. As for dancing,” Vivienne chuckled softly into her hand, “perhaps that Tevinter lout may serve a purpose. I would instruct you but I am preoccupied with other things. If he gives you a hard time, tell him you’ll learn under me, that should set him straight.”  
Hyacinth thanked her and rushed off. Running through the rotunda to the top she came into the rookery. Birds lined the walls in well maintained cages. Groups of Inquisition members worked tirelessly to clean and tend to the birds as Leliana sat near a small window at her private table, “Leliana!” Hyacinth smiled as she pulled a chair up and sat before her, “would it trouble you too much to help me learn the Game. I was told you were the best we have and I needed to speak with you.”  
Leliana’s soft voice rang out in an innocent giggle, “oh my, well that is quite the compliment. I can assume it was Madame De Fer who spoke so highly of my skills,” she sat back and crossed her arms, “yes, it would be her. Josephine would have sent you away with a stack of books.”  
“She did,” Hyacinth laughed, “and I have read them all. I understand the basics but reading and doing are different things. Can you teach me the steps?”  
Cullen groaned as he read the next parchment. Complaints about this minor issue, and that annoying trait and someone mispronouncing the word ‘Inquisition’. Balling the paper up he began writing an order to enforce a team building atmosphere with the recruits and before soldiers were sent out into the field. Allowing the ink to dry he read over a few more messages. Leliana’s contact in the black market had managed to find ties to the small village of Sahrnia in Orlais. Reading through the papers he grinned, “I almost have you.”  
“How am I? I can’t do that, it’s…” Hyacinth groaned and she shrunk into her chair.  
Leliana let out a chorus of giggles, “it is the Grand Game, and it is played like Wicked Grace but to the death. You must be unforgiving and merciless, and above all things you must not show your true intentions. Court intrigue keeps everything revolving. An air of danger is always expected. You can get away with almost anything, outside of blatant murder.”   
Hyacinth ran her hands down her face, “I cannot… oh Leliana, I’m going to fail miserably at this.”  
Sliding her hand across the table Leliana gently touched Hyacinth’s hand, “you may not like the way the game is played and I can understand that. It is not a game played easily and by those with tender hearts. Keep your answers short, remember we are hunting an assassin. One who is within the very rank and file of the Empress herself. Someone close and unsuspected. Our concern is not the Game as much as the players. Trust no one, trust no words, trust only the Inquisition. Josephine can deal with any political dramas easily enough. Cullen and I shall be there as well. We can keep eyes and ears low. If we see something we will find you. If you think it may be something, come see me. I will have my agents move in the shadows if I cannot tell you right away what it is. You will be safe,” she smiled and nodded, “go, the evening is late and the garden is quiet now. I doubt there will be a single soul to interrupt you tonight.”  
“How…” Hyacinth blanched white, “right, left-hand. Has anyone ever told you, it is rather unnerving the number of things you know?” she nervously laughed as Leliana giggled in response. Waving her off, Hyacinth scampered off towards the gardens. After the chaotic day, she was very much looking forward to a calm evening. Entering the garden, the powerful scent of fragrant flowers, sharp notes of spices and herbs floated delicately in the soft evening breeze. Despite being located in the tallest peak of the Frostback Mountains, Skyhold always managed to be warm like a spring day. Taking her time, she stopped to sniff the beautiful roses growing along the eastern wall. Embrium lined the rails with elfroot a few feet in front in earthen pots. Plucking a single red rose for herself she walked under the pergola on the back wall. Tucked into a private corner, lit with two small braziers she pulled out an ornate, wrought iron chair. Sitting she plucked a small wooden box sitting in a hand carved knock in the wooden table. Gathering the pieces, she hummed to herself as she tended to the board. Placing each piece in its special spot, she stopped to sniff the rose.   
“I do hope I am not late,” Cullen smiled as he took his seat opposite of her. Settling comfortably, he smiled wide, “thank you for earlier. I appreciate it.”  
Giggling brightly, she placed the rose in her hair, “I do hope you are feeling better.”  
“I am. I worked myself too hard. I am glad you were there for me. I…”  
“Hush,” she placed her hand over his, “I enjoy your company, a lot.” Blushing she moved the first piece, “your move, Commander,” she half sang his title as she settled into her seat.   
Laughter and shy smiles past the time as they played until it was dark. Hyacinth enjoyed listening to his tales of his boyhood, growing up in the small Fereldan village of Honnealth. How his siblings would torment him and their one common love of chess. She relished how his face lit up and the little wrinkles around his eyes seemed to dance when she spoke of his first win against his elder sister. Sorrow bit at her heart as she saw his face change. He hadn’t spoken to them since his time in Fereldan’s Circle, “you mean, since the abominations,” her voice was a squeaking whisper as she reached for his hand.  
He choked on the air and nearly sent his piece flying from the table, “I… I have been unable to speak of it since it occurred and I forget you have shared those memories.”  
Tucking a piece of her hair out of her face she closed her eyes, “I saw… it was horrible. Blood and gore everywhere. The horrible feeling of being crushed and yet whole. I wanted to run but I couldn’t move. Then there were cries, screams of pain and pleas of help. I… I woke up screaming, crying and nearly ill to my stomach several times.” She sniffled, “it was almost too much to bear. I ran to Solas and told him of my nightmares and we concluded it was the Breach altering my magic. I didn’t want to believe I was seeing into someone’s worst memories. I wanted to believe at first, that it was maybe memories from the Breach. Maybe something from the Veil passing through. Then I healed you a second time and the nightmares came back, stronger more real. I could smell the copper in the air, heard boots slipping in thick liquid. I knew then it was you. They were your memories.”   
Cullen sat quiet, face drained of colour. Licking at his dry lips he couldn’t find words. She had known for so long, seen so much of his suffering and instead of running from him she drew closer. It pained him to hear his own horrifying life told in such calm. It was as if someone sucked the air from his chest. Hanging his head, he felt the same crawling, shivering cold clawed the base of his spine. His leg shook and he gripped the arms of his chair.   
“Cullen,” she knelt at his feet and rested her hands on his, “breathe, count each breath.”  
Everything flooded back. Wave after painful wave washed over his being, trapping him once more. Closing his eyes tight he trembled, “there was so much death, and blood. Screaming that echoed through my body,” feeling her tightly squeeze his hand helped him to focus his thoughts, “I was the only one to survive. Of a full guard, I was the only one. I was so angry, so tired and I had been deprived of lyrium. I was half mad when the Hero of Fereldan pulled me from that magical cage. I spoke horrors when she emerged, First Enchanter by her side. I wanted them all dead, every last one,” his grip tightened upon the chair till his knuckles turned white under his gloves. Hot tears stung his eyes, “I… I tried…” sobs broke his confess, “they transferred me to Kirkwall to hide it. Knight Commander Gregior said I deserved a second chance. Said I was a good man despite what I…” he felt her warm hand press against his cheek, wiping away the slow, rolling tears. “I allowed myself to be ruled by anger. Knight Commander Meredith kept me fueled with lyrium, praising my concerns and unfounded fears. I spent nearly ten years believing, with everything I was that mages deserved nothing more than the brand.” He folded into himself, the weight of so much peeling away, “yet as time went on, I met Hawke. Hawke and her, interesting friends. She was a mage, I knew it. Knew it the whole time but there was something about her. Something that didn’t scream evil and abomination to me. She was kind, and a little crazy,” a broken chuckle cracked past his lips. “She found her fortune in the Deep Roads with her friend Varric. Then when the city was under attack from the Qunari she alone challenged their leader. A mage, stood for us all and won the day. She became the Champion. Her own mother fell to blood magic and yet when Anders blew up the Chantry she stood by them. Saying the innocent children shouldn’t be purged for one mage. Meredith was hot with fire in her veins and she handed down the Right of Annulment without mercy. I knew then more than I had in ten years, she was wrong. I stood beside Hawke, a mage and Meredith became, something else. When the dust settled I was stunned to see how many saw things as I did and how many saw things as Meredith did.” Reaching up he mindlessly ran his finger tips over the long white scar running down his upper lip, “I paid for my foolishness. Now,” he opened his eyes, “I wish to atone. I endure my penance and I will be better.”   
“Penance,” her voice was warm still and she reached for his hands, cold and trembling. “You have suffered enough. Everyone has suffered enough. If we can make things better then we should. No one is beyond help.” With the gentlest care, she brushed a tear from his cheek and held his jaw in her palm, “I have seen many ugly things done in the name of love, righteousness and honor. Our current enemy seeks to restore his lost heritage. You saw the wrong in your thoughts and have spent countless hours, blood, sweat and now tears,” she wiped the last drop from his chin, “in making things right. Who am I to judge you? You are a good man at heart, and you are a good man in deed today. That is all that matters.”  
Taking in several breathes to calm himself he nodded, “thank you, that means a great deal coming from you.” Patting her hand upon his jaw he sniffled, “I mean that, honestly. Not as some sad joke. “  
Giggling she began slowly tending to his headache, reducing the puffiness of his eyes, “let me help. Would be a shame if our men were to see their Commander all puffy.”


	13. Pulling the Weeds

Cullen spent much of the next few days in private speaking with Hyacinth. It was no different then speaking with the children in the Circle to her. Hearing the nightmares and reassuring them they only exist in their mind. Something she had tended to with the horror stories of many Harrowings. The way demons tempted, touched and tried. It left scars like wounds from war, far below the skin. While Cullen’s nightmares were real, they were behind him and he needed to learn how to let them go. Hyacinth always had a natural talent, helping to pull the pain to the surface and bleed it away. Of course, she wasn’t alone. Cole came to her many times and many times, the spirit child would guide her with her care, pushing her towards the pain and helping to release it.  
Each day brought its new ordeal as she prepared for the Winter Palace. Meeting dignitaries at Skyhold, dancing lessons, reading more and more about the game. It seemed so enchanting until she was casually reminded about the assassin lurking within the shadows of the Palace. Awaiting his or her chance to snuff out the Empress, unless she could ferret them into the light.   
With the ball being a month away she tended to some small exertions in the near by areas. Hearing of a mine in Sahrnia, possibly using people to create red lyrium she rushed out with a small group. Reaching the Emprise Du Lion in several days she spent another shivering day getting to Sahrnia. Her group discovered the kidnapped miners, the red lyrium mine and a wealth of letters and notes. Liberating the miners, she sent word for sappers to come and demolish the horrid scene. Skeletal bodies encased in thick red crystal clung to her mind. Lyrium growing in the ground, on the walls of the caves and worse still the people. She noticed it as they cleared the last red templar from the mines. Red lyrium gave off heat. An angry, sweltering heat even in the frozen tundra that was Sahrnia. Where it sat upon the ground it was barren, and dry. Unlike the thick walls of ice and snow that encompassed the landscape. It made her skin itch and crawl as they marched back towards Skyhold. During her trek back, she couldn’t shake the feeling inside, the coil of twisted anger when she thought of the mine. That sensation hadn’t cooled when she reached Skyhold.   
Soft, thick snowflakes were fluttering carelessly down to rest upon the dirt and sawdust at the gates as their group arrived. Dorian shuttered for the hundredth time as his teeth chattered, “the next time you have the urge to travel to a frozen cesspool, do leave me behind.”  
Hyacinth broke into a hearty chuckle as they entered the Keep, “I shall make it up to you, I swear. Perhaps you can come along to the Winter Palace? All the wine and sweet cakes you can stomach.”  
“And an assassin, it almost sounds like home,” he chuckled.   
“Then it is settled! I shall have someone see to your attire for the ball,” hopping down from her horse she walked the few steps to the waiting stable hand, “you’ll forgive me, but these letters must be delivered immediately. I’m sure it is what the Commander has been hoping to find.” Gripping the letters from her riding sack tightly to her chest she rushed up the stone steps and through the rotunda. Pushing his door open she smiled widely, “I do hope you are prepared to thank me, because I have the best gift possible for you.”  
Chuckling warmly Cullen rose from his desk, “well that is quite the greeting, Inquisitor. May I ask what I will be thanking you for?”  
“These,” she half thrust them into his hands. Nibbling her bottom lip in her mouth she watched as he quickly skimmed the letters. She’d been away for nearly two full weeks and their letters were friendly back and forth. Being back, she realized how much she’d missed him. Watching keenly, she focused upon as his brow. Knit tight in a cluster between his eyes, while he poured over the words upon each page. Softly pursed lips, became tighter, then relaxed into a wide grin. While they had been spending more time together, she had yet to mention her feelings for him. With the Winter Ball so close she was itching to tell him. “Maddox,” his shocked voice broke her focus. “I’m sorry, Maddox? I’m guessing you knew him. Ex-Templar?” she tried to steady herself and regain her Inquisitor composure.  
“No not a Templar. He is a Tranquil,” Cullen’s shoulders dropped at the mention, a bitter pill to swallow knowing he had a small part in that. “He was one of Samson’s charges. Maddox had Samson smuggle out love letters to his sweetheart. Upon being discovered Samson was thrown out of the Order and Maddox was made Tranquil.”  
Hyacinth let out a gasp and clasped her hands over her mouth.  
Cullen half hung his head, “Meredith wielded the brand for lesser crimes, I assure you. The official charge was; Corrupting the Moral Integrity of a Templar. I had thought with the fall of Kirkwall’s Gallows Maddox hadn’t been lucky to survive. It seems he has not only survived but Samson has taken him in.”  
Swallowing her disgust, she withdrew her hand, “what would Samson want with a Tranquil? They always gave me the creeps, no offense.” Taking the seat across from his desk she settled in and watched as he began to pace.  
“There is mention here of a specially crafted armor. Made from red lyrium. Tranquil are known for their ability to craft the incredible and impossible, like our dear arcanist Dagna. She arrived while you were away and has already begun experiments and setting up in the Undercroft.” He stopped in front of her and leaned against his desk, “perhaps we could speak with her. She would be able to figure out this red lyrium armor.”  
“More importantly, how to break it,” Hyacinth smiled, “I’m glad we are on the way to finding Samson for you.”  
Grunting he shifted his eyes away from her, “I knew him once. Though I doubt ‘he was a good man once,’ carries much weight.” Sighing he rubbed at his neck, “I apologize for my last letter, I had a rough day and I am sorry I took it out on you.”   
Rising Hyacinth reached out and touched his arm, “you have nothing to fear Cullen,” her voice was softer. “We all have bad days. It is together that we make them better,” her cheeks began to tint pink as she quickly looked away. “Supposing you enjoy my company.”  
Cullen cheeks flushed and he began to stutter, “Inqu-Hyacinth. I, well I…”  
“Commander Cullen, Ambassador Josephine requires your attention,” Scout Jim didn’t even look up from his papers, shuffling each sheet before finding his reference piece, “she wishes to know immediately if you have your measurements. She requires exact numbers for the seamstress or she’ll need to bring her in for your numbers as well as the Inquisitors.”  
Hyacinth shrunk back into the chair, trying to make herself seem more Inquisitor like and less the sheepish female who was just about to profess her need to spend less friendly time together and more intimate time.   
Cullen stood firm, grumpy that Hyacinth has retreated from him to the chair. Furrowing his brow, he growled back at Jim, “I shall attend to the Ambassador as soon as I am able. Could you utilize the door knock before barging through my tower next time Jim? We have had this discussion more than once and if I need to remind you once more there is going to be an unholy amount of latrine duty in your up coming shift. Have I made myself clear to you?” His large arms were folded tightly against his chest. Tight enough that the metal grated slightly and he scolded himself internally if there were to be scratches upon the usual pristine finish of his breast plate.   
Jim froze in his tracks, face blanched, “I… of course Ser. My sincerest apologies Ser,” handing him the papers he caught sight of Hyacinth, “I… I saw nothing Ser, not a thing. Won’t say a word.” Backing to the door quickly he turned tail and rushed away.  
Standing quickly Hyacinth brushed her shirt off, “I’m sorry, I should just go…”  
Before she could take a step away Cullen scooped her up into his embrace. Locking eyes for a moment, both breathed heavily, not waiting to move, unsure if either should. His amber rich eyes spoke of truth and passion, soft wanting slipped from her as she pressed her lips together.   
“I have wanted to ask for so long,” his voice was tender as he held her to him, “but I was afraid you would run from me. Knowing what I was, what I thought I was.”  
“Shhh,” she pressed her finger to his lips, “you are a good man. Things have changed you, but I like this you.”  
Smiling he sighed, “thank you.” With a care, he hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages he cupped her cheek in his palm.   
Closing her eyes, she snuggled into the warmth against her skin. She had dreamed of this moment, prayed to the Maker he saw her as she saw him. Despite all his failings, the horrors of his past and the near constant need of healing, she felt her heart flutter at his touch. Humming a soft sigh of satisfaction, she began to glow.  
“May I?” his lips hoovered just a breath away from hers. He eyed her expression, every little flinch of her delicate features. Not wanting to go further than she would permit. This wasn’t like the women before. She wasn’t anything like any of those women. He would treat her as she deserved, like a delicate flower to be cherished and honored.   
Not wanting to open her eyes she just managed to get the words out, “please,” she breathed. Leaning into him she felt a shock of electric energy spread through her as his lips graced hers. Silken lips eased themselves against hers as she sighed at the sudden caress. Tilting her head up towards him she reached her hand up to touch his face. Losing herself in the feel of his lips she slipped her hand through the hair at the base of his head and pulled him into her tighter.   
Fire spread through him, want driving high into his chest. Deepening the kiss, he felt her mold to his body and he cursed his armor for numbing the sensation of her frame against his own. He craved to feel her hot and bare beneath him, and if some of his self restraint hadn’t held him in place he would have taken things far past a causal first embrace. Delicately he pulled himself back from her, watching with a smug look of satisfaction as Hyacinth gave a slight whimpered chase. “My lady, that was… um…”  
“Perfect,” she gave a lop-sided grin as she tried to straighten up. Half stumbling, she fell into the arm chair.  
Cullen couldn’t help but burst into a roar of laughter.   
“Well I suppose now you can brag to all your friends about how you literally had the Inquisitor fall for you,” she couldn’t help but join in the myriad of wild giggles at her joke. After several moments of laughter past they managed to calm themselves.   
“We should return to our duties. There is still much preparations to go through before we embark on the Winter Palace,’ Cullen nervously shifted against the desk. “Perhaps, if you are not too busy later tonight we could… uh… perhaps…”  
“Chess, in the garden, after dinner.” Standing she leaned in and left a feather light peck upon his cheek, “I shall be waiting.”  
Returning to work wasn’t easy for Hyacinth. All she could do was think of his lips. Maker those luscious, incredibly pump lips. Several times she grumped and got up from behind her desk, pacing back and forth. The Winter Ball was only a few short weeks away. Knowing their travels with larger groups would slow them down considerably she had less than a few days to finish her studies. Yet no matter how hard she stared at the print in the book on Orlesian courtly procedure, she couldn’t get them to enter her mind. In frustration, she decided a quick zip down to speak with Dagna might be exactly what she needed.   
Pinching the bridge of his nose between chilled fingers, Cullen groaned. After having redone the duty roster for the thirteenth time he was finally satisfied that it would be up to his standards. While they were away at the Winter Palace, his second in command, Rylen would be working with Lisette to ensure a smooth day to day operation. Part of him loathed leaving the controls to anyone but himself. A burden of command, he always told himself. After Adamant, he had set time to personally write to every family that lost a brother, sister, son, daughter, husband, wife, mother or father. Having personally trained nearly every soldier in their ranks he knew enough about each one under him. Lisette was a templar but a quick-witted and honest woman. Rylen too had been a templar, coming from Starkhaven. While able to bond well with the men and women, he was known for having a quick tongue, and a lack of seriousness that always grated at Cullen. Now he was set to leave them in control, if only for a week to tend to this ball.   
Thinking of the ball he groaned louder and flopped into his chair. He had never attended such things as a templar. Now he was set to stand in the heart of the Orlesian hierarchy and help save the Empress’s life. Part of him reasoned it was the best place to be. To coordinate in person with the men Leliana would help smuggle in. The other half of him cringed at all the Orlesian frivolry. Growing up in Fereldan, he was painfully aware of the conflict between Orlais. It hadn’t been more than twenty years since King Maric removed them from Fereldan. Most Fereldan born men and woman knew the story and Cullen was a small child when Fereldan claimed victory at Fort Drakon. Distrust and much hatred still swelled within the breast of many a Fereldan born and he was one of them.   
Word had already spread that the Empress was feuding with her cousin Grand Duke Gaspard. Celene wanted peace, and a lasting solution between Orlais and Fereldan. Her long-term goal was the growth of Orlais through culture, music and art. While Gaspard longed for a time of old, when Orlais held Fereldan in her palm. After all, Orlais had held Fereldan for nearly seventy-eight years. Cullen’s own father fought in the battles to take back their soveignty and now it was all coming to a head. Mixed with Corypheus’s assassin. Straightening his papers, he pushed the creeping thought from him. There was still plenty of day light and perhaps a bit of sparing with Iron Bull would help clear his mind.   
Hyacinth stood in awe of the bubbling tubes and flasks laid out upon the tables in the Undercroft. “Are you certain you can study it safely? I mean I have been near the vile stuff and it is more than disturbing. It… tries to speak to you,” Hyacinth shuddered as she wrapped her arms around herself. Seeking a warmth that was real and not angry like the red lyrium crystals.   
“Anything can be safe if handled correctly. Red lyrium too. Just ya know, don’t go making a hat out of it. Unless you plan on sending it to your enemies,” giggling as she spoke Dagna fiddled with a philter over an open flame.  
“If you say so. Though I would feel better if we knew how to deal with this, angry, lyrium. This can’t be a natural occurring thing, can it?” Hyacinth watched in awe as the philter’s fluids went from a glimmering blue to a deep crimson red.   
Dagna chuckled, her ruddy cheeks glinting a slight pink against the bright flame, “don’t worry, it’s nothing dangerous. Well, if you know how to handle it.”  
This time Hyacinth chuckled along with her, “I suppose that is why we have you here.”  
“It is, but I am a very busy dwarf. If you don’t have anything else you need I have a lot of work ahead of me. If they really did create a suit if red lyrium for this Samson and he’s not singing to himself, then I have to figure out the hows and then whys. I’ll send Josephine the list of items I’ll need, and we can get to work. I should have something before you return from the Winter Palace.” Continuing her work with the philters, Dagna didn’t bother to look up.  
Pacing up the steps she stopped to admire a few of the blacksmith’s works. Having dropped her gear off she was pleased with how it was all coming along. It wouldn’t be ready for the Winter Palace but she wouldn’t be able to use it their either. Continuing her leisure walk up into the throne area of the grand hall she was stopped by Josephine. “Ambassador, you look as if you’ve been trying to hunt me down for some time now. I hope I haven’t eluded you for long,” Hyacinth smiled as Josephine let out a soft chuckle.  
“No and yes, sadly. I have the tailor here and I wish her to get your measurements for the gown. We are dreadfully behind schedule since you ran off to Sahrnia. Not that I am not glad you went and saved those people. Maker,” she sighed wiping at her forehead, “it has been quite the day. Would you?”  
“Not a problem, take me to her.”  
Cullen wiped the sweat from his brow, his loose tunic shirt sticking tightly to his body. He had long since let the Bull go to drink at the newly opened tavern. Instead he worked on his own. Push ups, sit ups, sword work with the dummy, even squeezing in a short run along the battlements. Feeling that he had reached his peak he set about the short walk to his tower to freshen up before his evening meeting with Hyacinth in the garden. Opening his tower door, he was greeted by the scout Jim, “good evening Jim, is there something I can do for you?” quickly walking behind his desk he pulled open the drawer, fishing out a clothe to wipe at his face and neck.  
“Ser, we have reports from the black-market dealer. They bring word of a tranquil named Maddox looking to procure some hard to get metal. Our contact is willing to provide map co-ordinates, for a price, Ser.” Jim lowered his gaze and pulled a dark vellum letter sealed in pitch resin.   
“Very good Jim, dismissed.” Carefully he took the letter.  
“Before I go Ser, you need to know this letter has seen no eyes but yours. Good evening, Ser.” Jim bowed heavily at the hip before racing off for the evening. Sitting at his desk Cullen carefully peeled back the seal and began reading each word with extra care.  
Passing the brush through her hair Hyacinth looked herself over in the mirror. Her hair had grown long again since Haven. It had been several months since she cut it off short. Shorter than it had ever been at the Circle. Looking over at the sheers on her desk she debated. Should she cut it so close to the Winter Palace? Fretting she barely caught the sound of the latch, “hello?” she yelled down.  
“My lady, the council requires your attention in the war room. Commander Cullen has requested you all convene immediately.” The voice bellowed up the stairs.  
“I shall be right down. Thank you,” Hyacinth tried to sound pleasant though she felt uncomfortable. The hour was late and if he had summoned them all together it couldn’t be for anything happy. Leaving her hair down she strolled down the steps and into the war room.  
“I do apologize for the hour, and the secrecy,” Cullen sighed placing the vellum on the table. “I have received word from our black-market contact. He believes he can provide us with a map to Samson’s private lair. There are, however, some rather interesting terms to his offer.”  
Josephine picked up the paper and read it over before letting out a gasp, “he cannot be serious!” Passing the note to Leliana, she began flipping through her parchments, writing things down on a loose sheet in her hand.  
“Oh, he is quite serious Josie. Though we do have options,” Leliana smirked as she read the letter.  
“Would someone kindly inform me what is the fuss?” Hyacinth placed her hands on her hips, looking over her three advisors, “surely his request can’t be that unagreeable.”  
Cullen snorted, “if only. Leliana, pass her the letter. She can see for herself.”  
Taking the letter in her hand she squinted at the print:  
I shall hand over the whereabouts of your target but I will not do so without my pound of flesh. I require several items. As I believe you get the better deal, I expect nothing less. A set of dragon scales -the fresher the better-, a flawless diamond – the size of a chicken’s eye, EXACTLY that size! A small cask of lyrium and the final piece- a vial of the Herald’s blood. NO questions! With these things, I would walk you into the Void personally! You know my dead drop. Once I receive everything, I will leave the map coordinates to his lair. I do hope we can work out an arrangement.   
“My blood!” as if the paper itself dripped of vile acid she tossed it across the table.   
“This, is why I called this meeting. If not for the odd final piece but what can be done. This man knows the whereabouts of Samson. We may be able to route the entire red templar army by capturing or destroying their base. The information is priceless, but the cost, in my eyes, is too high.” Cullen folded his arms against his chest, without his armor on he felt stripped before the fierce predator eyes of his female companions.   
Leliana grinned, “Perhaps there is a better way.” Hyacinth watched as Leliana took a piece of parchment from Josephine and began scribbling away, “dragon scales are easy to come by, a flawless diamond, even more so. Lyrium in a cask, while foolish, also easy. Why ask for blood?”  
“Creepy, fascination with a higher power?” Josephine mused as she watched Leliana finish her note.  
“No, blood magic. Those ingredients are key to several spells I can list off memory,” smiling she folded the paper, “let me this man. I believe he knows more than he leads on. Only a Tevinter mage, specializing in blood magic would require these items.”  
Cullen groaned, “if this lead goes back to Samson we may lose our only means of locating him.”  
Tutting him Leliana sealed the letter, “have no fear Commander, this man will never breath a word to his allies. We will have Samson’s base and without him being the wiser. Come, get some rest. We leave in a few days to the Winter Palace. We have an assassin to locate and stop.”   
Hyacinth found it very difficult to sleep that night and was glad that Cullen seemed to be troubled as well. She brought the chess board and pieces up from the garden to her private quarters, where they spent a few hours playing until both were tired. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Hyacinth shuttered. Extreme exhaustion seeping in through her body made her muscles tighten and shiver, “I am unsure if I can do this.” Admitting her weakness to him, made her feel raw, but empowered.   
Thoughtfully he stroked her knuckles with his finger tips, “Hyacinth, do not worry about your performance at the Winter Palace. Josephine can smooth over any issues. I am firmly convinced she could speak her way out of a wet sack and make the sack pay her for her troubles,” he chuckled as he moved his pawn a single space forward.  
Withdrawing her hand from his touch she mumbled, “I shall be made a fool of, I know it.” Crossing her arms tightly against her chest she looked down at the board, “a child playing with murderers. Truly this is impossible. I have read every book, practiced with Josephine, Leliana, even bothering Bull. Every day since I learned of the ball. Not once have I been able to best them, not even close. I am going to make a horrible, terrible fool of myself before an entire kingdom.” Moving her mage forward several spaces she slunk back into her chair.   
Cullen felt at a loss. This wasn’t his area, not even slightly. He could negotiate a battle field, analyze an enemy position change and counter on the fly but the Game, no that was a different monster. One that even frightened him, something he was not going to openly admit. All of Orlais played this political and private Game. Lies, manipulations, murder, all traded and shrouded in the utmost care. Each death, poisoning, each act meant to illicit a particular reaction. All finely turned and measured. Were it a battle of swords, or a straight out duel he could easily handle himself. Templars were and are one of the best trained groups in all of Thedas. Known for besting Chevaliers, with easy. Training since he was thirteen, muscle memory, battle experience and sheer survival had made him one of the best soldiers in the Inquisition. Yet, in the Grand Game, he was as raw and terrified as Hyacinth. Drawing in a long, exasperated breath he shook his head, “there is nothing you can do that hasn’t already been done. Our concern is the assassin and stopping them from their goal. I am almost certain any mistake, no matter the size, will be readily forgotten once the Empress is safe. In fact, it may go towards your growing fame, and not mockery as you fear.”   
Snickering at his slight she loosened her grip about herself, “my fame? Dare I say what that is these days?”  
Moving his knight to counter her mage he smiled to himself. He figured at the soonest he could take her in three moves, if she saw his first plan he would have her in eight. Grinning he leaned back, “of course. There is constant word in the barrack of a certain Commander visiting the Inquisitor in her private quarters at all hours. That one is a particularly regular one running around.” Watching her face bloom before him, he couldn’t help but have a smug grin creep over him, “yes, there is some very colourful commentary coming from the younger men and women.”  
“Maker’s breath,” Hyacinth rubbed her forehead, “please, I hope this doesn’t offend you! I never intended to cause you undo attention. Maker,” she groaned half watching as he casually moved a piece along the board.  
“My lady, if you are concerned about our relationship being public I assure you it would bother me more if there was nothing to speak of,” he tented his fingers and leaned over the board.  
Searching the board, she let out a whimpered giggle, “again, you best me yet again. I see why the Inquisition has the best at the head of it’s army. Their Commander is ruthless in his tactics.”  
Leaning back in his chair he let out a long row of laughter as he carefully packed up the pieces into their velvet bag, “yes, quite. I hate to break up the fun, but the sun will be up far sooner than either of us care to think of yet. We both should get some rest.”  
Peering out the balcony over Cullen’s shoulder she let out a muffled snort, “I wish you didn’t have to go.” Stumbling she tried to correct herself, “I mean, not like that! Not that I don’t want to. Or you. I just meant sleeping. Sleeping in the same bed,” slapping herself in the face she groaned and flopped back down into her chair.   
Carefully Cullen finished packing up the chess set, “my lady, that is for you to decide. I warn you that there will be consequences when the Commander of your armies comes out of your chambers when the sun rises over the mountains.” Looking up over the table he watched her pace nervously back and forth before the edge of her bed, “what do you ask of me?”  
“I... I… am unsure,” she sunk her face into her hands. “Maker a simple decision and I feel like I am torn. What I want and what is best for the Inquisition, they are two separate things and I cannot choose.”  
Neatly stacking the chess board upon her table, he causally walked over to her and laid his hand upon her shoulder, “my lady, perhaps not everything in your life must be about the Inquisition. I believe the Circle has claimed enough of you, you deserve to choose for yourself.” Leaning down he placed a sweet kiss upon her forehead, “my lady, there will be many more evenings. Some less stressful than this one. Take your time, I swear to you, I will always be here.”  
Watching as he silently walked down the steps, she sat in the stillness of the early morning hours struggling to get the words he’d laid before her out of her mind.   
Time flowed quickly and before she knew it the morning came to leave. Everything blurred past her as people hurried about packing up two large coaches. She was told the trip would take roughly four days, if the weather held for them. Josephine had covered every base in booking inns along the roads, including a small inn the Inquisition would completely take over only a fifteen-minute carriage ride from the Winter Palace. Hoarding her pouch filled with hand written notes about the game and Orlesian politics Hyacinth nervously climbed aboard the coach.   
Travelling down the roads she enjoyed watching the buildings, trees and small farms pass by as they journeyed towards Halamshiral. People in the carriage chattered away, laughing and telling stories. When Josephine had asked her who she wanted to take with her she remembered her promise to Dorian. Along with him she decided on Iron Bull, Vivienne and Sera. Having spent time with them she believed they would be the best at helping her lock down the assassin.   
Vivienne was once the right-hand mage to the Empress, and a seasoned veteran of the Grand Game. Her knowledge of the imperial court would be priceless. Sera knew how to disappear in the corners and could easily get the staff to spill any secrets their mistress had. Dorian, the son of a Magister, would know the proper way to present himself in the court. People loathing Tevinter or suspicious of Tevinter would focus on him and give Hyacinth and her people a chance to move unseen. Bull was the wild card. He had confessed to her his roots. The Qunari spy network. His lengthy training could prove invaluable spotting and stopping the assassin. At the least he would also serve as a wonderful distraction. Josephine and Cullen had worked out plans to get their men into the palace. Surely if this assassin were to strike, he or she would need men to back them in a fight. With the palace unaware of the number of men they faced they could easily be out maneuvered. This was where the Inquisition came in. Sneaking their men in would give them the advantage, and help secure the peoples’ safety.   
Her nerves chewed at her as they arrived at their first inn. Stepping off the coach she stretched her weary limbs before allowing herself to be escorted inside. Once in her room she sat to write.  
Hyacinth’s diary entry dated the day before the ball.  
Things are rushing along. People everywhere at all hours, pacing the halls and whispering codes. My nerves are frayed. How does a Circle mage get to this point? I cannot fail, for if I do, all Thedas will suffer. Fereldan isn’t yet strong enough to weather an attack of this scale. Even though they have been free of the Blight for nearly a decade, the mage and templar war has caused enormous damage. I am beyond frightened at this point. I am terrified.   
What if I make the wrong call? If I do not find the assassin in time, the Empress will die and Orlais will be thrown into chaos. War will erupt for the throne and in the end, Corypheus must have plans to put a puppet in. It is the only thing I can think. It is the same plan he mastered behind Adamant. An agent to carry out his wishes, in some vain hope of personal gain. Perhaps that is the key to finding this assassin. Someone with a personal stake in it. I have asked Josephine to go over the political situation once more and to help commit it to my memory, I am writing it here.   
Duke Gaspard, the cousin of Empress Celene, wishes to claim the throne. He believes he and he alone to be the rightful ruler of Orlais. He wishes to restore the Empire to it’s glory days. Which of course means the complete enslavement of Fereldan. Cullen has made it clear to me, that with Gaspard as Emperor he may provide us military support. Only until the campaign against Corypheus is won. Once that is said and done, he would easily and readily march on Fereldan and plunge them into a most bloody and brutal war. Something, I cannot stand. If I am to have a say in things, and I clearly do at this point, I cannot allow such a horrid man to claim the crown.   
Ambassador Briala is the ex-lover of Celene and an elven girl from the local Alienage. She is seeking a larger slice of the political pie. Wanting different laws and changes for the elves of Orlais. While my heart goes out to her, I sense there may be a slight revenge angle. Leliana has said their relationship ended due to the pressures of the Empress and her kingdom. There may be something, or nothing at all here. A little digging will answer this, I know.  
Then there is the Empress. Every message we tried to get to her, never arrived. Someone close to her knows her movements. Who could possibly be so close to her to have such intimate knowledge? I think not Briala, but I cannot be sure. Has the Empress changed her behaviours since their departure? I cannot say.   
This leaves many doors open and lots of work to do ahead of us. Leliana has assured me her agents are already within the walls and reports are trickling in to our inn now. The seamstress will be bringing by our attire in the morning, then we shall all get ready and be off to the ball just after nightfall. I am nervous, scared and horribly unsure. I pray to the Maker I can do this, because right now, I’m not. Maker help me. – Hyacinth


	14. Stargazer's Prefer Lilies

Seamstresses poked and prodded her, quick fingers working to make last minute alterations. Struggling to hold as still as possible as they worked she was still subject to a half dozen random pokes. Each jab earned the seamstresses a sharp yelp and a scowl. She listened intently as Josephine droned on about the political situation they were walking into. Reiterating the dangers of the Orlesian Game. “Like Wicked Grace, but played to the death,” Josephine’s face was stern and unforgiving as she fixed her hair.   
Hyacinth didn’t want to risk the huff, lest the quick fingers miss their mark and pierce her side again, “I am aware. How much more is there to do? I fear I may be a pin cushion before too long.”  
Nervously laughing the seamstress slowed and took a more cautious approach to her next few stitches, “my lady, I apologize. We must move quickly, we do not wish the Inquisitor late to the grand ball.”  
Waving someone over Josephine smiled, “it won’t be much longer. There is still your hair that requires styling, your jewelry to compliment the dress, shoes, and some make-up.”  
“I shall look nothing like myself,” Hyacinth was very uncomfortable with the thought of so many hands upon her. In the Circle she had been privileged. That privilege had given her the freedom to do many things, and while some younger students would get searched for items she had never had another’s hands unwillingly placed upon her body. Now, she was being picked at, plucked, hair ruffled and pulled, her body carefully placed into her dress. Someone busily bound her breasts into a leather bodice under her dress. While another worked at plucking her eyebrows into a perfect shape. Another yet still, combing and styling her hair. Hair that had grown. Grown now to center of her back. It was combed and teased back before being pulled into multiple braids. Each braid pulled and fluffed before being coiled and pinned to her head with opulent pearl clips. Careful tendrils were left to hang about her face, and a few down the back of her neck. Each tendril carefully heated around a wand to make the hair curl.   
Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she felt pretty but still unsure of herself. Her hair completed, and her dress being tugged up her waist she drew in a deep breath, “if I am to fight, how will I manage in this?” tugging at the long, billowing layered shirts she groaned.  
“My lady,” Josephine laughed, “the leather corset is made using dragon scale, it will act as you armor. You have matching leggings to wear under your skirt. This,” she held up a fan, “was crafted by Dagna and Vivienne. It is something they called a spirit blade hilt. You can channel your energy through it and it is your weapon. This,” she held up a large bangle wrist charm, “was also crafted by Dagna. If you press this button.“ She pushed a small Inquisition emblem and the metal sprang to life and created a round shield. “An improvised shield. It won’t hold up against heavy blows but for small skirmishes it should hold well. Simply push the switch again in the center and it will return to the bangle it was.   
Feeling the weight of the hilt I her palm she smiled, “I see it clips nicely into this fancy belt on this dress. Anything special about the belt?” clipping the fan she ran her finger along the delicately beaded leather strip.  
“Yes, the emblem in the middle will loosen all the fabric. Making it easier to remove and get back into. In case you require it. We hope you do not, but it is best to be safe. It is of course enchanted and will help the material hold to your form. Hence the reason we needed such a tight fit.” Josephine quickly scribbled down a note before a servant rushed away.  
Another servant held her shirt as they helped her pull on her leather leggings, “Maker, this is going to be impossible. I feel so overstuffed and not myself, how will I do this? Josephine… I’m scared,” she whimpered as the thin crystal straps were pulled up her shoulder. Looking herself over in the long mirror leaned against the plaster wall she barely recognized herself. Her hair coiled into a wondrous design, her face painted to compliment the pale pinks and subtle rose tints of her gown. Her bodice glimmered and glistened when she turned, hundreds of hand stitched crystals shone in the light. Crystal straps held the piece up as lace hung down from her elbow. It was a beautiful dress and given any other situation she would feel like a princess in the stories of old. Here, now, she felt like a fraud. Someone barely able to survive the night at best. Turning back to Josephine she saw her face. Josephine's bright smile and wide eyes met hers, “I… I feel… fake.”  
Josephine tenderly gripped her shoulders, “my lady, you will be wonderful. You look stunning, smile my dear and fake everything. I can guarantee you will come out of this just fine. Remember our goal for the night and if you feel lost. Leliana, Cullen and myself will be there to guide you.”  
Drawing in a calming breathe she followed Josephine down the hall. Feeling her heart race, she began counting her breathes. Everything blurred and she felt like she was watching all of this happen to her. Stone walls, melded into one. Before she could bring herself to figure anything out she was being whisked away in a fast coach, down quiet city streets.   
Lamp lighters were tending to their craft, pulling back the large glass domes to prepare the long wicks. Bright oranges and deep purples painted the horizon as night crept over the calm village. As the lamp lighters filled the oil within the pillars she sighed. How much simpler a life would it be? To come out every evening to light the lamps. She envied the simplicity. Looking down at her hand, it calmly pulsed it’s eerie green light. Not the beautiful ombre colours of the fire within the lamps, but the silent horror that the light lead to the Fade.   
Solas had spoke in length with her about her journey into the Fade. What it was like, how it felt, the mark’s abilities. After hours of work together they had come up with the short answer to her question. Her trip into the Fade was the mark’s attempt to save itself. She was in no immediate harm or threat of a random trip into the Fade. It did little to assure her. Taking the pair of cream lace gloves, she tugged them on, trying to shift the material to cover the glowing gash. Nibbling her lip, she felt her stomach roll.   
“Here, take a small sip. Not too much, just a very small sip,” Bull handed her an engraved Silverite flask, “don’t tell Red.”  
With trembling hands, she cupped the flask. It had looked so small in Bull’s hands but in hers it looked as big as her shield. Pulling the stopper, she took a small mouthful. Bitter and tart liquor burned on its way down as she gasped and choked, “Maker, what is this?” she hacked and clutched at her throat.  
“Marass lok,” he laughed taking the flask and helping himself to a long dreg, “powerful stuff. Your throat will be half numb by now. Should get you through the first half of the ball without too much trouble. You look like you could use a belt, boss.” Coughing along with her, he returned the flask to his jacket pocket, “you’ll do just fine. Don’t over think this.”  
Feeling the heat travel from her chest to her face, her stomach began to settle. Things didn’t seem to matter as intensely as they had. Since Adamant, and her encounter with Hawke she had steered clear of alcohol. Save for the occasional glass of wine with her meals she hadn’t been prepared to drink anything nearly as strong as Bull’s brew. Smiling up at him she nodded, “I do feel better. Thank you.” Humming a happy tune, she felt more relaxed and enjoyed watching the scene rush by. The sleepy little village giving way to a calm and quiet country side before they reached the sprawling garden estate that was Halamshiral. Perched upon a massive cliffside the palace was a village unto itself. Places for trade set up just outside the palace wrought iron gates. Even a small tavern sign swayed gently in the evening breeze. Were there time and perhaps not the fate of Thedas in mind, she would have relished in exploring all the sleepy little shops.   
The couch pulled up to a fenced off section of the courtyard and came to a slow stop. Everyone around her seemed to be in their own worlds. Josephine mindlessly straightening every small crease she could find in her gown. Cullen plucking at the collar of his jacket, sweat starting to cling to his temples. Leliana was humming a ballad as she tucked a lock of her fiery red hair behind her ear, a bright grin upon her face. Bull seemed uninterested in everything, sitting arms crossed as he watched people standing near the gates chattering about unimportant issues. Dorian twirled his moustache and preened his hair as he awaited the lowering of the steps to the carriage. Vivienne was like a Queen, sitting stiffly in her seat, unmoved by the hurry about her. Sera was the only one who Hyacinth felt understood her. Sera shifted uneasily in her chair, tugging at her clothes as she slipped a gemmed dagger between her breasts. Once safely concealed it reminded Hyacinth of an expensive necklace.   
“Ladies, Sers, we have arrived,” the driver pulled the steps down and held his hand out, aiding any who needed it to exit. One by one they all piled out, stepping into the fading light of day. Torch lamps were already lit and the air about them held a subtle coolness. Stepping back from the carriage, Hyacinth looked up towards the palace. Surely everything the Orlesians did was extravagant but Halamshiral was over the top even by their standards. White marble fountains, plant beds and columns greeted her vision as the massive gates slowly creaked open. Constant trickling of water, passing out of the hands of the blessed Andraste into the well surrounding, had a wonderful calming effect. Past the fountain stood a looming stairwell rising up to the body of the palace itself. Rows of marble columns guarded the royal blue and gold edged gate doors. Lions in pure gold, gleamed in the torch light. Deep scarlet red banners waved in the breeze as draped fabrics of regal blue hung proudly from every window.   
“Good evening, Inquisitor,” purred a tall man in an oversized teal doublet, “I’m pleased to see you were able to attend such a momentous evening.”  
Josephine bowed politely, gripping her finger tips together as she dipped at the waist, “Grand Duke. Inquisitor Trevelyan, this is the Empress’s cousin, Grand Duke Gaspard. He is the one who offered us tickets to attend this evenings ball.”  
Bowing as Josephine did, Hyacinth remand cautious, “thank you kindly, your Grace.”  
Letting out a deep chesty laugh, Gaspard smiled, “oh my dear Inquisitor, please. I detest the Game. Once I am Emperor of Orlais I shall do away with such foolishness. Of course, if you were to aid me tonight in these talks, I can assure you, together we would make a most powerful alliance,” he grinned wide as he held his arm out for her, “come let us shock the ball room with our grand entrance.”  
Unsure how else to present herself she held fast her smile and looped her arm in his. Letting him lead her up the steps she swallowed hard. Trying to calm herself seemed useless, even with the bit of Bull’s ale still flowing through her. Everyone walking around her wore masks made of shining metals and pearlescent gems stones. Only the odd jaw line hung bare. Josephine patted her shoulder, tight behind her and handed her a mask of her own.   
“Ah yes, best to finish the look,” Gaspard chuckled as he pulled his mask down over his face, “do you require a hand with yours?”   
Josephine moved quickly and began tying the delicate ribbons behind her, “I shall assist her, thank you for your most generous offer, your Grace.”   
Gaspard seemed unconcerned with the delay, as they paused upon the steps. People passing by uttered shocked gasps and colourful remarks. Each muttered phrase seemed to puff his chest out further, pride beaming at the salacious words.   
Hyacinth was glad for the mask once it was fastened to her. It helped hide the blushing tinting her cheeks as they continued up the steps and into the palace itself. Not halting, Gaspard lead them towards the immense ball room. More gold and velvet fabrics draped over the rails, while vast collection of paintings stood perfectly leveled along the walls. Men in full plate mail, as decorative as it was purposefully, stood by the doors at every turn. Walking towards the balcony, they were ushered down the steps to the dancing floor, “we are to be announced,” Gaspard leaned in and whispered, “see their faces? Ah, soak this in tonight, my lady. They will speak of this night for years to come.” His silvery chuckle sent chills down her spine. Something about the man made her feel unclean. Keeping her composure as best as she could, she eyed the room. From wall to wall their stood groups of men and woman, all in decadent attire ranging from the more common linens to the finest leathers, silks and velvets in all of Orlais.   
“Now introducing,” the voice boomed over the crowd as all attending seemed to hush and turn their gaze to the floor. The announcer’s words didn’t even register with her ears, only the gentle push of Josephine’s hand upon the small of her back got her moving forward with Gaspard towards the other end. Towards another set of small steps and a stage where the Empress stood above them. From her balcony, she watched as the group of Inquisition members and Gaspard crossed the floor as their titles and names were rambled off. Only the name, “Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath, former Knight Commander of Kirkwall, and head of the Inquisition Armies.”  
Stanton, she mused to herself, a weak grin curled up the delicate edge of her mouth as she carefully ascended the last step before the Empress. Standing a few steps away from the Duke she gazed up at the Empress. A woman clad in the same regal blue that adorned the palace exterior walls. Billowing blue that made her pale complexion almost appear like ice. Her gown was simple, yet it spoke for itself. Sleeves covered her arms down to her wrists, her neckline lay bare. High stiff capped shoulder sections stood like a halo about her. Fabric draped over her chest, covering all that could be seen tastefully. Upon her back sat a golden lion, it’s mane creating a winged effect when viewed facing her. It made Hyacinth swoon thinking of the subtle hint of power and the classic beauty implored.  
“Dear cousin, we welcome you to the Winter Palace,” she spoke with calm and precision. As if each word were a dagger and with the right flick of her tongue could impale her victims.   
“Cut the pleasantries, dear cousin,” Gaspard’s tone was rough and unfeeling, “we have business to conduct tonight. See to your guests, then I shall see you at the meeting table.” His bow was sloppy and flippant as he waved his hands and dipped only a touch at the knee. With a confident smug grin, he sauntered up the steps and disappeared in the gathering crowds.  
Unmoved by the blatant attempt to ruffle her, Empress Celene smiled down at Hyacinth, “Inquisitor Trevelyan, we are honored to have you here with us tonight. What do you think of the Winter Palace?”  
Licking her lips Hyacinth steadied herself best as she could, “it is a wondrous place, your Majesty. I only wish I could stay to see more of it. It is a truly divine sight to behold.” She could feel Josephine pat her back, as she awaited the Empress’s remarks.  
Chuckling softly into her hand, Celene waved, “you are like a cool wind on a hot summer night. So delightful. We do hope you enjoy the ball. Before you go, please allow me to introduce our cousin. Inquisitor, meet Grand Duchess Florianne, whom without, this evening would have never been possible.” Waving her hand over to the shadowy figure behind her, Celene took a half step back.  
Hyacinth watched as a whip of a young girl came out from behind her. Pale white skin with fair hair and an ivory dress gracefully strolled up to the balcony, “thank you, dear cousin,” the woman beamed, “I did not expect to see you this evening, Inquisitor. I do hope you enjoy our ball.” Clasping her fingers together she bowed at the knee, dipping just slightly, “I shall see you later, perhaps.”  
Josephine carefully nudged Hyacinth and they all bowed to the Empress, Hyacinth remembering to bow her head and expose her neck. The custom meant to reflect the utmost respect to the royal family, before following the small group up the steps. Reaching the top step, she was quickly ushered over to a corner, away from prying eyes. Letting out a long breath she tried to steady her racing heart. As first impressions go she was beyond pleased it was over and done with. Judging by the wide smile on Josephine’s smiled, she had managed to succeed in her first royal greeting.   
“You did splendidly!” Josephine smiled, “Gaspard looked like an ass, and you have earned some of the court’s admiration, surely.”  
Cullen tugged at his neckline before Leliana swatted his hand away. Grumbling under his breath he mumbled, “I should have had this jacket let out a bit.”  
Leliana snickered, “just hush and look pretty. Several men and women have been speaking non-stop about you since we arrived. Perhaps it is something we could use later.” Turning towards Hyacinth Leliana dropped the volume of her voice, “speak with Sera, she’s by the servant wing. She can explain when you get there. Mingle a bit before heading over, you’ve excited many.” Her smile never wavered as she spoke.  
Josephine looped her arm in Cullen’s, “come with me, I think we can put your skills to work. We’ll be over by the balcony doors if you are in need of us.” Together the three headed towards one of the exterior balconies overlooking the gardens of Halamshiral. Walking around the room she spoke with those who came to her, offering a warm smile and simple replies. Some offered to donate men, money and goods to the Inquisitions. Each offer she redirected to Josephine. Taking her time, she casually made her way through the arched door to the gallery separating the two party areas.   
Cullen tried to keep his cool as Hyacinth disappeared from his line of sight. Josephine had been pulled away from their small group to discuss matters of finances with several interested persons. Now he was left to his own, Leliana a table over chatting away to a man in plaidweave. Around him gathered a small crowd of men and women. Each offering freely, their words of encouragement and endearment. “You have lovely hair Commander,” one sputtered. “Are you married?” giggled a rather heavily chested woman, as she waved her fan about her face, her other gloved hand dipping playfully between the bountiful flesh. Crossing his arms tightly, and praying he could have kept his sword he tried to reply politely as Josephine begged him, “no, I am not married but I am taken.” Giggles burst about him as the small group began coming closer to him.   
“Ya so, the kitchen staff says their others haven’t come back yet. I told them we’d go take a peek for them, ya. Something about the servant wing,” Sera leaned against the statue of Emperor Florin as she picked at her teeth.  
Nodding Hyacinth looked around, “and how are we to get into the servant’s wing? I’d assume it was locked.”  
Cackling Sera tugged a key out of her pocket, “ain’t nothing to it. I has a key. Seems like if shite’s going down, some little people are in trouble, we best get to it.”  
Taking the Key from Sera she nodded, “we have to hurry, if I’m gone too long from the ball people will notice. Get Vivienne, I’ll find Bull and Dorian. They can’t be too far,” before she turned Sera gripped her arm.  
“Nah, already told’em. We’re good to go. Best hurry, ya, don’t know what we’ll find but I bet it’s some shite.” Sera slipped her arm in Hyacinth’s and guided her down the hall and around the groups of people. Without being seen she pushed Hyacinth through the side door into the servant’s wing.   
“About time you showed up, much longer and these two would have used the excuse as a chance to,” Vivienne made a disgusted noise, “indulge in each other.”  
“You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first,” Dorian snickered as he pulled a staff out of a large barrel, “over here. Some weapons and armor. Nothing great but it should do us in a pinch.”  
“I have barriers still, we’ll be fine. Let’s get moving, we don’t have much time.” Hyacinth pushed forward undoing her dress and draping it carefully over the barrel. “Hurry,” letting Sera lead they entered the servants’ quarters, only to find a blood bath awaiting them. Bodies of elves strewn along the halls. Bloody hand prints, smeared down the walls and broken bodies spoke of the horror that befell the elves in the room. Hyacinth gritted her teeth, “madness.”  
“Shite bastards, shite eating…” Sera muttered as she pulled a blade for the body of one, “Tevinter shite, ain’t it?”  
Dorian nodded, “most definitely. This must mean the attack is coming tonight for sure. We must move forward, see if there is anyone left to aid.”  
Together they hurried through the corridors and rooms, only to find more bodies, more blood. Exiting the servants quarters into the back gardens they saw a body that didn’t fit the others. Moving forward Vivienne pulled a blade from the fallen man, “Maker, really? So blatant as this? Surely the Grand Duke could play a better Game than this.” Turning back to the group she shook her head, “he’s gone and killed a Council Herald.”  
Hyacinth tried to remember what that meant for the politics of Orlais. Josephine had given her the book and she had read the Council could decide major things. Including who held the throne, “Maker, is he that power hungry that he would murder so outwardly? This is truly madness!”   
Before Vivienne could answer a scream broke from across the garden. An elven serving girl, racing as quickly as she could towards them. As she got within a few steps she let out a guttural sputter before tumbling to the ground, an arrow deep in her back. “Venatori, ready yourself!” Vivienne drew her enchanted blade and her staff.  
Cullen tapped his side nervously. They hadn’t seen or heard from Hyacinth in far too long for his comfort. Looking over at Leliana he excused himself from the group around him and quickly paced to her side, “its been too long.”  
“Hush,” Leliana smiled, “I have received word they encountered Venatori in the servants quarters,” waving at someone across the room she nodded, “and it seems they are well.” A servant dropped a drink off beside her and slipped her hand across Leliana’s. Taking a turn to sip her wine she deftly opened and read the message without a single person seeing the action. Returning her drink and placing the letter in her front breast pocket she returned to Cullen. “They are fine, some wounds. Hyacinth is healing them now then they shall return to the soiree. You worry too much.” Patting his arm, she smiled at another passerby, “have a drink Commander, you need to take the edge off. Less you cut yourself with it.”   
Hyacinth struggled to pull her gown up, her hands trembling. Dorian kindly reached over and began tying the belt back on, “my dear you need to relax, we are safe and with some useful information.” Licking her lips Hyacinth adjusted the straps, “it is not the death that has me shaking. I am terrified I will make a mockery of myself or worse the Inquisition.”  
Vivienne gave a firm huff, “Hyacinth, my dear, you have done splendidly so far this evening. Focus on your task and maintain that innocent smile. I can assure you, all else will be fine.” Helping her tuck a few of the stray tendrils back up into her hair, Vivienne smiled softly.  
After carefully cleaning up they each made their separate journey back to the ball room. Hyacinth scanned the room, maintaining her gentle smile she casually strolled through the crowds. In the backdrop of the voices chattering she could still hear the announcer uttering more titles and names of people still coming into the party. Heading to Leliana she struggled to keep her composure, “have you heard all or parts?” she half mumbled as she stood beside her.  
“I know you were successful and managed to route some Venatori. Did you discover anything beyond that?” Leliana smoothed her napkin upon the table before them, placing her goblet atop.  
“Bull’s holding the dagger we found. Vivienne says it bares the mark of the house of De Chalon. It was buried in the neck of a council emissary.” Waving her fan about her face she tried to breath in the cool air.  
“Good. I will see to its safety. If Grand Duke Gaspard is planning something…”  
“Oh, he most definitely is,” Hyacinth slipped a parchment letter under Leliana’s napkin, “this is a letter we found, along with a couple other interesting items. It seems he has been sneaking Chevaliers loyal to him into the palace. My best guess, this is treason. My worst guess, he’s a fool.”  
“I will see to this as well, perhaps it will guarantee us a good outcome for tonight,” Leliana folded the napkin and letter into her breast pocket, “what other items on interest have you located?”  
Hyacinth patted her dress, a small pocket sewn into her waist, “a locket. Elven by my guess, found near some possessions of the Empress herself. I can only guess it was held as a sentimental piece,” looking over to the length table were the discussions were set to take place she watched as the conversations seemed to sour as all three parties walked to separate balconies. “Perhaps, there is a chance at happiness this evening.”  
Leliana smiled, “ah, a romantic. If you plan to do what I believe you will. Tread lightly. No one knows the story of their love, if it was love. It may do my heart well to see a miracle this night.”  
Hyacinth carefully moved towards the party. Seeing a group of women dressed in similar attire move towards her, “good evening,” she smiled trying to be polite.  
“Oh, Inquisitor! The Empress sends her warmest greetings,” the women spoke in near perfect harmony, “She wishes to extend her hand to your cause, once she is assured her throne is safe from the usurper Gaspard.”  
“Am I to believe she would gladly assist the Inquisition if only her rival were removed?” Hyacinth quirked her eyebrow, at the three women who moved and spoke as one.  
“Maker, we cannot say such words, as you understand,” the ladies fanned themselves as they spoke, “but her aid is yours when the night goes her way.”  
Nodding Hyacinth reached into her pocket and pulled out the small elven locket, “I believe I require a moment of your Empress’s time. A certain elven locket, that requires her eyes.”  
Gasping, they women closed ranks and whispered amongst each other. Turning back to Hyacinth they nodded, “come with us.”  
Following closely behind they lead Hyacinth to the balcony were Celene was leaning over, watching the vibrant red roses, sway in the evening breeze, “you Majesty,” Hyacinth bowed again when Celene turned, “I wish to help you, but I must be honest first.” Pulling the locket up she laid it in the waiting hands of Celene, “clearly this piece means more than the metal it was crafted with.”  
Celene’s hands trembled as she ran her finger over the delicate engraving on the back of the amulet, “it’s a silly thing really.”  
Hyacinth crossed her arms and shook her head, “silly things are tossed away, not kept in safe places. You will forgive my prying but there are many issues this evening. It is painfully clear to me there is much still between you and Briala. Is it too much to get over? Can the wound be healed? This amulet tells me that perhaps it can.”  
Celene swallowed hard. Carefully she coiled the amulet up and placed it in Hyacinth’s palm, “we… she wished me to make changes. I am the Empress, the Empire. But I cannot move mountains in a day, and I cannot sway centuries of hatred and mistrust with a wave of my hand. Things take time, perhaps I could have pushed harder. Tried harder. Please, take this. I believe you will know what to do.” Patting her hand she turned to leave.  
“You know, don’t you.” Hyacinth called out, “you know you may die tonight. Don’t you?”  
Celene froze in her place, stiff and tall, “perhaps, perhaps I grow weary of the fighting. The constant knives in the dark. Poison in jeweled goblets.”  
“Your Majesty, if you fall tonight all of Thedas will suffer. Fereldan will suffer, Orlais as you built it. The bastion of art and culture will be ripped asunder. All you’ve worked so hard for will be erased and in its place, demons, blood and death. Pleases, do not allow the dark swirl within to sink the glowing light of hope.” Hyacinth clasped the locket tightly in her grip.  
Silence filled the void for what felt like forever as Celene struggled to compose herself. Finally choking down her feelings she spoke, calmly, “thank you, Inquisitor. You’re time this evening has been a monumental aid to us. Enjoy the ball,” walking with all the regal dignity she had upon their first meeting, Celene disappeared through the balcony doors.   
Hyacinth stood for a moment, trying to catch her breath. Knowing full well if the Empress had wanted to, she could have ordered her death on the spot. Tucking the locket back into her pocket she sighed.   
“Tis interesting prey you hunt in the darkest halls of the palace,” a velvety female voice purred at her, causing her to turn sharply. “Perhaps we hunt the same prey.”  
“Prey? If you mean Venatori or evil Tevinter murders then, yes I believe we share a common goal,” Hyacinth eyed the raven hair woman as she seemed to float towards her, barely a sound coming from her shoes as they paced across the marble floor. Cat like yellow eyes gleamed at her as a subtle smirking grin pressed the corner of the woman’s ruby lips.  
“Then we share a common foe. Perhaps we can be of assistance to each other. I am Morrigan, Occult advisor to the Empress,” she bowed with her fingers clenched together, “speak anon. I have information I wish to share, freely.” Standing beside her leaning against the edge of the railing she peered back at the door. “I found, and killed one of those Venatori agents and recovered this key from his person. Though I know not where it leads.”  
Taking the key into her hand, Hyacinth rolled it over, “I believe I know where this leads. But, why do you wish me to look into this? You could very well be apart of the very plot to overthrow the Empress?” she took a half step back, watching the reactions of Morrigan closely.  
Laughing she shook her head, “were I to kill the Empress, I would immediately risk my life and the life of my son. He is safe for the moment, but I do not think the Orlesians will be so kind if anything occurs to harm the Empress. I cannot and will not risk his safety. If that is not assurance enough, take my words as you will.” Her words were curt and hot as she crossed the distance back towards the ball room, “safe hunting, Inquisitor.”   
Kicking herself Hyacinth drew in a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. Walking back into the ball room, she could hear the house band playing a fast-paced song as she scanned the crowd for Sera.   
Cullen’s face reddened as he rubbed his back side, “Maker, did you just pinch my bottom?” he tried to sound stronger and more confident than he felt. Lustful eyes sized every inch of him and sapped his confidence with every passing moment. Checking over the shoulders of the people around him he was more than relieved to see Leliana and Josephine waving him over. Excusing himself as curtly as he could, he pushed through two gentleman who pawed at his arms and chest as he rushed by. Shuddering against him wishes he didn’t turn back. Meeting up with Leliana, she whisked him off to a quiet corner of the ball, “we have word from Hyacinth. She’d gone off to investigate some rooms in the guest wing.”  
Cullen shook his head, “what could possibly be in the guest wing? It would have to be locked at the least.”  
“She has a key, and since the key should not be about, she is going to investigate. Alone.” Leliana turned to Josephine, “how do we fair?”  
Keeping her eyes sharp Josephine nodded, “a little over half of our forces are in. We will need more time. We have the proof?”  
Leliana pulled the napkin from her breast pocket, “yes, there is no doubting from this letter that the Grand Duke plans on taking the throne by force tonight. Could he be the assassin? Now that question we have yet to answer.”  
Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck, “Maker’s breath. Alone? What if she is to encounter the Venatori or perhaps the assassin themselves?”   
“Care for a break from the dance floor, Commander?” Leliana smirked as she looked around the room, “I can have your sword and shield brought about to the guest wing.”  
Grinning widely, “Maker yes,” he felt a surge of energy push through him. “I shall head to the guest wing now, is there enough time?” Watching Leliana nod he didn’t hesitate. Barely stopping to speak to a soul he marched towards the servants’ entry to the guest wing. Sera helped slip him through without a hitch, pointing him towards a hidden area with his sword and shield in place. Unbuttoning his dressing jacket, he felt better. Knowing all he had was his sword and shield he proceeded through the guest wing carefully. Being as silent as he could manage he moved through the long halls, poking his head in room after room. Finding several dead bodies, he stopped to check the room carefully. No signs of papers or Hyacinth. Noting the blood had begun to dry he moved on to the next room, only stopping briefly at a sudden sound at the end of the hall. Gripping his hilt tightly he quickened his steps. Reaching the end, he heard the familiar grunt of Hyacinth. Coming around the corner he watched as Hyacinth locked her enchanted blade with a Venatori rogue. His duel daggers pushing down on her. Bursting forward he leveled his weight behind his shield and slammed into the rogue, sending him tumbling hard into the wall.   
“Cullen!” Hyacinth gasped, quickly getting up from her knees. Stumbling forward she came crashing back down, clearly drained of all energy as her blade disbursed.  
Picking up one of the daggers he tossed it at the rogue, burying the blade deep in his chest. Keeping an eye on the twitching man he returned his main focus to Hyacinth, “hang on,” he pulled her up into his arms, “you shouldn’t have gone alone.”


	15. Bleeding Hearts

Letting out a weak puff she tried to steady her legs, “I didn’t want to get anyone hurt. I’m just chasing a ghost at this point.” Feeling her strength return she stood firm, “the key was for here. I know why now, but I feel I can’t make the call just yet.”  
Unsure of what she spoke he took a half step back, “did you discover something?”  
Shaking her head, she sighed, “if Gaspard wins tonight, he will come after Fereldan. It is guaranteed. But he is not the assassin. Briala is angry with Celene but we spoke not but a moment before this,” she waved her hand over at the still corpse, “rude bastard interrupted. She still loves Celene, but she wants the best for her people. I have tried to bridge the divide. I believe I have and can. Gaspard must be stopped. Once I uncover the assassin.”  
Shrugging at her musings he hugged her tightly, “see, I knew you were capable of this. Never doubt yourself.”  
Enjoying the warmth of his body against hers she sighed, “Maker, I wish this night were over.”  
Chuckling Cullen nodded against her, “yes, I wish it were over as well. Come we need to get back, hand over whatever evidence you have, to Leliana. They will begin the serious dancing soon, and I know Josephine will want you to dance with the elite this evening. If only to garner another favor here or there.”  
Walking back through the eerie halls together they returned their gear to their hiding places and he carefully helped her back into her dress before returning his jacket. Smoothing down any fly away hairs he laid a soft kiss to her cheek, “be safe, I await your signal.”  
Patting at her face and neck with the small clothe hidden amidst Cullen’s sword and shield, she closed her eyes and offered up a prayer. Striding out with confidence, she calmly past through the halls towards the main ball room. Hearing the bell for the dancing to begin ring loudly through the palace halls she tried to rush along without looking out of place. Blending into the group making their way into the dancing room she felt a hand grace her arm. Looking back, she saw Grand Duchess Florianne smiling at her, “your Grace, a wonderful soiree. I must commend you.”  
Florianne smiled and motioned for Hyacinth to come with her. Dipping just outside the main entrance Florianne grinned, “I am most pleased you are enjoying the evening, Inquisitor. Come dance with me, there are far too many ears here. Far less upon the dance floor.”  
Hyacinth stuttered, “your Grace, I am a taken woman.”  
Chuckling brightly Florianne fanned at her face, “your partner has nothing to fear from me. I wish to simply be away for the wicked hearts and wicked eyes of the Game. Nothing more.”  
Not wanting to offend the Duchess and still on the hunt for the assassin, Hyacinth took Florianne’s hand and lets her lead them down the steps and onto the dance floor. The house band just finished their warm up a brief moment before their feet touched the black and white tiled floor. Getting into their positions, Florianne grinned, “I know you have been, exploring the palace tonight. Creeping about all the darkest places.”  
Hyacinth remained as calm as she could, focusing on the music and the steps to the promenade she had been taught, “your Grace?”  
“Fear not, I believe our goals are allied as one.” Taking Hyacinth’s hand, the music began to pour down the gallery into the dancing floor. “You must know my brother plans the blackest treason. He has hired Fereldan’s,” she made a gagging sound as they spun together, the music slowly beginning to swell. “Dog lords. It is a disgrace. One we cannot abide, we must protect our Empress, our beautiful Orlais.”  
Hyacinth weighed her words as the crowds of nobles swaying around them broke off their dances to watch them, “I believe we see the same. To preserve the glory of the Orlesian empire. Why speak to me of such deed? Is there something you believe I may be able to do?”  
Closing the distance between their bodies, Florianne gripped Hyacinth tightly as they spun and kept pace with the rising crescendo of the bands fervent efforts. Pressed chest to chest, their feet prancing along the marble tiles. Each step barely audible against the rising swell of people gasping in awe and the musicians pounding away at their instruments. Sensing the music ending soon Florianne leaned in close, her cheek pressed against Hyacinth’s, “I wish you to go where I cannot. Head to the royal wing. There you will find his guard captain and the final piece of evidence you need to save the throne from my dastardly brother.”  
Hyacinth finished the dance as the music came to it’s conclusion by dipping the Duchess away from her, “I shall consider your words, your Grace.”  
The crowd about them burst into applause as Hyacinth helped right Florianne, “thank you, Inquisitor. I will be forever thankful for this dance,” turning she bowed with Hyacinth before leaving the dance floor.  
Rising up the small steps leading off the ball room floor, Hyacinth was deep in thought. Everything she’d already seen tonight should have been enough to convince her, but perhaps she was wrong. Feeling someone touch her arm she looked up to see a very excited Josephine, “Maker, you danced with the Duchess! What did she say to you? You shall be the talk of the court for months!” Josephine was practically beside herself as she pulled Hyacinth off to the side.  
“Dancing with the Duchess,” Cullen’s baritone voice was cocky and slightly irritated as he strode up to the small meeting, Leliana close behind.  
“I believe I have the answers, but I need to be sure. I cannot say for sure without seeing for myself.” Fumbling with her thoughts she ignored the half banter between the three ahead of her, only picking up on the subtle conversation of perhaps choosing a leader, “no, I came to save the Empress and that is my intentions. I know I am right, but…” turning back she watched the Duchess bow and greet another noble couple upon the floor. “Everything I have found tonight points to Gaspard, yet it is too simple. Corypheus took the time to work the Wardens to their end, force them to his Tevinter puppet. This, this feels all wrong. I know it is not Gaspard, but he does have plans to over throw the throne, either way.”  
Leliana smirked, “then we should check out this last lead. It may be the missing piece. If it is to be a trap, then we are aware. Take your party with you. Where is it you were told to go?”  
“The royal wing,” Hyacinth again couldn’t shake the feeling she was walking straight into a trap, “I know… I don’t know…”  
Cullen laid his hand upon her arm and smiled before Leliana quickly swatted his hand away, “not in public Commander. Both you and the Inquisitor are in too high demand to risk rumors flowing about the palace. Save it for the inn upon our return or Skyhold.”  
Hyacinth rubbed her hands together, “please, be ready. I fear this will not end well if we are unprepared. Are the men in place?”  
Josephine nodded, “yes, they simply await Cullen’s order.”  
Checking around the room she gave the signal to Sera, “they will meet me in the royal wing. Wish me luck, I fear what is to come.” Strolling past a small group of bantering nobles she dipped into a side passage and met up with Sera. Together they found the others and proceeded towards the royal wing. As quietly as they could manage they began skulking around the royal wing.  
Finding in one room an agent of Briala’s under attack by a Venatori rogue, Bull quickly rushed forward and slammed him through the window. Once the poor shuttering woman calmed herself, they told her to find Commander Cullen in the main ball room. He would surely see to her safety or at the least point her towards Leliana. Clearing the room, they moved on, hearing yet another impassioned plea for help they managed to break into an unknown bedroom. There tied to the bed posts in nothing but his lieutenant’s helmet, lay sprawled one of Duke Gaspard’s men. Professing his need to be released, Bull and Dorian had a long snicker as Vivienne and Hyacinth unbound the man. He went on to blather about Celene knowing Gaspard was staging a coup attempt. Hyacinth knew it was useless information, outside the admission of Gaspard’s plans. Offering his life, Hyacinth told him to go see Commander Cullen as well. He would know what to do with these people. After the small group finished snickering they continued their search, “that couldn’t have been the guard captain, Florianne spoke of. We’re missing something.”  
“Over here, ya,” Sera motioned for them to come near an area under construction. Buckets of paint, mortar and slabs of brick sat piled in a corner. Linen draped over statues to protect them from damages sat beside scaffolding. Drawing closer to the door Hyacinth could hear a man cursing loudly. By his accent she could make out that he was indeed Fereldan. Pushing the door open the small team entered an open, private garden. As the last one cleared the doorway she watched as Sera’s bow came up.  
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Florianne’s voice sang out from the overheard balcony. “I almost didn’t think you would actually fall for my trap. I’m so pleased you could attend.”  
Hyacinth could see, in the dimly light evening the glint of arrows pointed at her and her group. Panic was slowly setting in, a cold sweat licking at the base of her skull. Trying to think of her options she decided to keep Florianne talking, give herself some breathing room, “why? Why would you do this? To your brother, your cousin, Orlais!” Keeping her gaze on Florianne until she began pacing she just caught the edge of the green ripple. A dormant rift sat just above the heads of the unsuspecting archers. Perhaps she could cast a barrier up quick enough then pull open the rift. Archers in close range would have no chance against a rush of demons.  
“Corypheus promised me Orlais. All I need to do was kill the Empress tonight. With you out of the way, no one will stop me and Corypheus will have the crown jewel of Thedas in his palm. I it’s rightful Empress.” Clasping her hands against her breast like an opera singer she flicked a hand towards the men below, “kill them. Bring me the marked hand as proof.” Walking out the balcony doors, Florianne disappeared.  
Before the doors could shut, Hyacinth cast a barrier out and began pulling the rift open with her marked hand. Arrows bounced off the edges, a couple breaking through only to be batted harmlessly away by Vivienne’s ice magic. As the rift opened, demons began pouring out. Overwhelming the archers in a matter of seconds. Dorian and Bull went to task, casting and smashing the few remaining archers while Vivienne and Sera focused on the demons.  
Hyacinth took the moment to seal the rift closed. Hearing the muffled grunts of a man she turned to see something wiggling behind a column. Taking her blade, she slashed at the ropes, “hello, we’re here to help. I am Inquisitor Trevelyan.”  
“Thank the Maker,” the man came around the corner, dressed in mercenary attire he rubbed at his wrists, “damn bitch. If I’d known Gaspard would stiff me for a damn bill, I’d have stayed the fuck out of Orlais!”  
Dorian chuckled, “this must be the infamous Fereldan guard captain that Gaspard hired. Charming.”  
“Ya he hired me. Didn’t have enough of his fancy Chevaliers to do his dirty work so he hired me and my crew. Listen,” he took a step forward, “if you need me to sing the damned Chant from the tallest spire of this cursed place I’ll do it. Just get me the fuck out of here.”  
“Go to the main ball room, seek out Commander Cullen. Perhaps you could work for the Inquisition, if you have any talent.” Hyacinth pointed towards the ball room and watched as the man ushered himself out. “We need to get moving, if we are to stop Florianne.”  
Dorian blasted the doors open, “then let us make haste.”  
Cullen paced back and forth, scrubbing his forehead, “Inquisitor Trevelyan sent you? All of you?” Before him stood an elven serving girl, a nearly beat red Chevalier and a cursing Fereldan mercenary. Leliana waved her hand to send them to her and without putting much thought into it he sent them all over at once. Checking about the crowd he watched as Empress Celene made a motion to stop the band from playing as she ascended to her speaking platform above the dancers. “Cullen!” hearing his name he turned to see Hyacinth in her battle armor, “Maker’s breath, what is going on?”  
Hyacinth waved her hand, “it’s Florianne, I was right, I should have said it early. Get your men, I will stop her from getting to Celene!” Racing between people, Hyacinth pushed hard. Knocking over several nobles before she cut off Florianne, “not today,” she cast out a barrier around herself and Celene, “you have plotted blackest treason and I will not allow it!”  
Florianne feigned ignorance as she pushed her brother forward, “Venatori! Now!” she screamed as she ran out the balcony door and jumped down to the gardens below.  
“Shit,” Hyacinth raced forward, “protect the people Cullen!” Bursting through the doors Florianne slammed shut behind her, Hyacinth leapt off the balcony. Landing awkwardly upon her ankle she knew instantly that she had broken it. At least in two places. Hobbling to her feet, using the near by lamp post for support she tried to grasp her bearings.  
“You’ve ruined my plans! But I can still redeem myself,” Florianne’s voice was cold as ice as she moved about in the darkness. Arrows sent flying from an unseen bow began systematically dousing the lamps. Draping the garden in darkness.  
Hyacinth cast out a barrier around herself, “give up Florianne, it doesn’t have to end like this.” Gripping the hilt of the knight enchanter’s blade she waited. Spending half the night tackling unknown Venatori numbers had depleted her mana. She needed to conserve whatever supplies she could. Closing her eyes she hoped the trick would help her vision adjust to the coming darkness.  
“Give up? When I am so close to removing the thorn from my Master’s side? We can come back, remove Celene when you are out of the way. This night is not over, and I can still win it!” Bushes rustled a few feet before Hyacinth and another arrow dashed a lamp.  
Hyacinth trying to think, tried to remember all the nights playing chess. The hours of battle field reports she’d read and gone over. Little changes that would help her here, and now. Keeping her eyes closed she tried to keep Florianne talking, get her to make a mistake, “How will your Master feel if you failed in such a basic task? Had you not gloated and danced with me, I may have never put the last piece together. Your arrogance, your foolishness will cause him much displeasure and he will cut you loose the moment he can get another to sit upon the throne of Orlais.” Hearing the rustling stop, she figured she’d hit a nerve. Perhaps enough that she could mend the bones in her ankle. It was a gamble. Beginning to heal her ankle she didn’t move. Trying her best to conceal the change, keep the balance in her favor she egged Florianne on, “what’s wrong? Have I hit a sore spot?”  
“You will die tonight, and I will be Empress!” Florianne’s voice was hot and thick in the damp evening air. Shattering filled the next moment as the last lamp burst, “you will die in the dark, where I shall be celebrated in the light!”  
Confident the sound was coming from behind her, Hyacinth rose her shield just as the dagger came down. A loud twang of metal on metal filled the void between the women. Releasing her barrier Hyacinth reacted swiftly, taking her shield and bashing it into the face of Florianne. Feeling warm and stick fluid splash across her own face, she knew she’d either gashed her or broken her nose. Following through with an attempted punch earned her a boot to the gut. Dropping to her knees she opened her eyes. Perfectly adjusted to the darkness she saw Florianne retrieve her blade. Her ankle was weak, no where near healed enough to stand a toe to toe match. If she wished to live she’d need to end this, and soon. Gripping the hilt of her energy blade she didn’t focus her energy. Using only the hilt she countered every wild swipe Florianne thrust at her. Missing her step upon her broken ankle, Florianne managed to slash a wide gash in her shoulder. Biting down her jaw to silence her pain she felt rage coil tightly within her. Kicking out Florianne’s leg she smashed the dagger away with the wrist buckler, snapping it in half. The jagged end hung from her wrist like a dragon claw. Leaping upon Florianne she slammed the serrated metal into her chest, “to the Void with you!” Hyacinth screamed as Florianne spat blood at her. Again and again, Hyacinth drove the barbed metal into Florianne’s chest until the thing beneath her stopped moving.  
Huffing and puffing, Hyacinth tried to stand only to half fall on top of the mangled corpse. Pulling the broken contraption off she rolled to the side. Laying upon her back she could clearly see the twinkling night stars, all a glow. Tears poured from her eyes, but she didn’t dare to move. Someone would find her soon enough, and they would see the truth. She needed someone to see the truth.  
“It hurts, it shouldn’t hurt. She would have killed me unless I killed her. I don’t like to kill, yet this felt…. Good.” Cole’s voice broke her sullen gaze upon the sky. “It’s alright. They won’t judge you like you think. You saved them, saved them all. You aren’t a bad person.”  
Sniffling she tried to lean into a sit, “Cole? How did you… never mind. I need…”  
“His arms to hold me tight. To leave this place, make it all go away. Drink it away, yes drink till the pain stops.” Cole swung his legs back and forth from the top of the fountain where he was perched. “You mustn’t be upset. She made you very angry. You wouldn’t do this to a friend. You don’t have it in you. Kind, soft, delicate and young. A flower afraid to bloom.”  
“Thank you, Cole, I think I understand. Can you… please get help. I have broken my ankle, and I believe I’m bleeding….” Dizziness over came her as she heard Dorian’s voice ring out, “Hyacinth!”  
Cullen wiped away the long smear of blood from the hilt of his blade, before returning it to the sheath at his side. Scanning the room, Inquisition soldiers and Chevalier alike aided in removing the corpses of Florianne’s Venatori agents. Tossing his soiled gloves into the pile of bodies he moved towards Leliana, “any word on Hyacinth? Florianne?”  
“Dorian ran outside as soon as he could to find her,” she placed a cleaned dagger back into a secret pouch on her hip. “If we are secure here, we can go to her. Or you can?”  
Cullen didn’t wait he headed for the steps that lead to the back gardens, stopping only to retrieve a healing kit from an Inquisition soldier. Rushing through he was aware of the darkness. Much darker than it should have been. Calling out to Dorian he heard it. The familiar whoosh of magic flames. Heading towards the light he caught sight of the horror. Florianne’s body, what was left of it lay a mangled and torn wreck. Her chest cavity shredded, and an expression of anger still etched into her face.  
“Over here Cullen! I need aid!” Dorian was holding a torn section of his dress jacket over Hyacinth’s shoulder, “the bitch got her.” Dorian spit upon the corpse as he held the clothe tight, red billowing up between his fingers.  
Dumping the bag on the ground Dorian ordered this item and that balm as the two men struggled to work in the dim light Dorian kept. Cullen cradled Hyacinth’s head in his lap as he carefully poured little by little drops of an elfroot potion into her open mouth. Dorian worked feverishly to seal the wound, “hold her still,” Dorian grunted his hands lighting up. A purple flame poured from his finger tips, sparkling flecks bounced in the air. Cullen felt her buck up and watched as her teeth grit tight before an agonizing shriek ripped from her lips. “I’m sorry Cullen, I had to burn the vein closed. She’d have bled to death otherwise. Help me with the ointments and bandages. Once her mana returns she will easily care for herself.”  
“With less pain,” she groaned, “my ankle, broken. Two places.” She just managed to get out before she slipped back into the darkness.  
“She didn’t want you to think her a monster,” Cole’s voice broke the eerie silence. “For killing Florianne like she did. She is afraid you will hate her. Think her base.” He cocked his head towards Cullen as he sat a few feet from them upon the ground.  
“Cole, damnit you nearly scared me half to death!” Dorian shuttered. “Silly girl, she defended herself. Saved the damn kingdom, and half the idiots in it. Maker.”  
Cole rocked side to side, “its not easy when the world is upon her shoulders. She burns so brightly, but sometimes she’s dark inside. Afraid, lonely, and unsure. I have a cousin! Oh, I always wanted a cousin. Someone to tell all my secrets to and laugh and oh, it’s so wondrous!”  
Dorian’s jaw clenched tightly, “please, no more. It hurts.” His hands shook as he worked the ointment into the gapping wound.  
Cole stopped and seemed to peer through Dorian before turning back to Cullen, “can I help?”  
Cullen bit the inside of his lip, “there are wounded inside, and those who suffered without harm. See to them, please.” Looking up, Cole was gone.  
Several tense moments past as they worked to restore Hyacinth in near silence. Only the sound of the flames licking around themselves broke the horrid tension. Eventually Hyacinth opened her eyes, “did we win? Is the Empress safe?” Were her first thoughts upon waking.  
“Yes,” Cullen smiled as he helped Dorian lift her up, “we need to get you inside.”  
Dorian fished about in the medical bag, “you need lyrium my dear. Something to bring your back to yourself. Commander, help me place her on the bench over here. Then I would suggest looking away.”  
Placing her at the bench he turned his back, not wanting to see or hear the call of the little blue bottle. His cravings had been in check for some time now with Hyacinth’s aid. However, with his stress and anxiety levels reaching critical peaks he felt the call to drink the singing elixir strong tonight. Too strong.  
“There, much better, yes?” Dorian’s voice was calm again and back to his normal singing wit.  
Tossing the bottle towards the corpse, Hyacinth focused her energy. Mending the bones in her ankle fully, “more like myself,” she rubbed at the sore spot, “thank you, both of you. My saviours.” Peeling back the bandage she closed the wound and rubbed the ointment into her skin.  
Having seen her healing powers many times in the past it shouldn’t have surprised him how simple it was for her. Yet each time he was in awe of her skill. Rubbing at his neck, Cullen smiled, “it is good to see you are alright. Come, the crowds will have gathered inside and the Empress will want to speak with you right away.”  
“Good thing I brought this,” Leliana stood at the base of the steps, holding Hyacinth’s dress. “Mind if I assist her, alone.”  
Both men jumped up from the bench and quickly entered the palace without another word.  
Leliana carefully took the clothe left between the men and tenderly wiped at Hyacinth’s face and neck, “you have done the impossible tonight, but it is not over yet. Celene requests your presence in confronting Gaspard. I have all the letters and the dagger here, in this pouch,” holding a leather strapped bag she grinned, “I know what you wish to do. You wish to reconcile the two lovers. Without these things, you could only save Fereldan. But, if you offer the thanks to Briala, perhaps there is yet a way.”  
Stepping into her dress she tried to think about the potential before her. Allowing Leliana to aid her she counted each breath, “thank you, I think I know what I need to do.” Scooping the bag up she slung it across herself, “I am ready.”  
Grinning wide, Leliana tossed the clothe into the bushes and walked her back into the palace. Holding her head high she counted each step, each click of her boots against the cool tile. As they entered the ball room the crowd broke out into a roaring applause. Waving to those waving at her she made her way to the balcony. Two guards escorted her through before closing the glass doors. Celene, Briala and Gaspard stood, guards behind the Empress awaiting her. “Your Majesty, I apologize for taking so long. I have the proof needed to end this fighting.”  
Gaspard scoffed immediately, “evidence of what?”  
“Treason.” Hyacinth smiled as she reached into the leather pouch, “if it were not for Briala’s aid tonight, I would have never found this information.” Pulling out the letter carefully she watched as Celene’s mouth gapped open.  
“You helped her, for me?” Celene’s body remained unmoved but the tone of harshness evaporated from her voice.  
“Of course,” Briala’s smile was infectious as she gazed at her lover.  
“This letter proves, Grand Duke Gaspard was intent on ending this evening as the new Emperor of Orlais. With force if needed. I have his Fereldan mercenary captain in the ball room with my Commander. He is willing to testify against Gaspard if you require him to, your Majesty.” Hyacinth handed the letters over to Celene.  
Gaspard began stumbling over his once carefully picked words, “lies, all lies!”  
Celene waved her hand, “enough! You have plotted blackest treason against the crown. In doing so we condemn you to death,” waving the guards towards Gaspard, she smiled as they hauled him out the doors. Turning back to Hyacinth and Briala, her smiled grew wider as it engulfed her face. “We owe you more than I can ever say.”  
Returning her smile, Hyacinth nodded, “all I ask is your aid in fighting Corypheus. The monster behind everything tonight. Can I count on that?”  
Briala and Celene spoke as one, “yes, Inquisitor.”  
Cullen stood back in his corner, fielding question after question as he rubbed at the splatter of blood across his jacket. He was glad at that point that Leliana had requested a deep crimson red fabric. Looking up at the sudden movement above the balcony he couldn’t help but let a soft smile creep across his lips as Hyacinth took her place beside the Empress. Despite her state a mere moment ago she looked poised, if not a bit paler than normal. Unwavering she stood firm beside them, until she was called to make a brief speech.  
“We must all work together, now more than ever. Mage, elf, human, dwarf and all in between. We and we alone can stem the flow of darkness from filtering into this radiant land. Let us stand firm, as one and end this darkness. Together!”  
Briala’s smile seemed to grow as Hyacinth reached the climax of her speech. Stepping just slightly back from the two Hyacinth scanned the crowd. Seeing Cullen’s smirking at her from below she couldn’t help but feel relieved. She’d done it. Done the impossible. Stopped the assassin, saved the Empress and reunited lost love. Perhaps it was the adrenaline wearing off but she felt dizzy. Barely holding out for the end of Celene’s speech, she quickly disappeared towards the open balcony. Leaning over the rails she wretched. Her whole body quaked, with each thrust of her stomach. Bile sat upon the back of her tongue as sweat slicked her neck. Fanning at herself she was glad no one could see her. A half full bottle of wine sat a few feet away and she greedily drank it down. Wiping at her lips she felt the warmth of the imbibing liquid spread through her stomach. Letting out a long breath she leaned over the balcony and tossed the bottle. Watching it smash against the rocks and stones below she felt light headed. Happily calmed she could hear the house band begin to play it’s music once more.  
“Do you tire of the nobles and their affections so easily?” Morrigan’s calm purring voice serenely filled the air about her. Giving a giddy chuckle, she leaned herself, lazily, against the railing, “oh, forgive me. The air was much cooler outside and quieter.”  
Leaning against the railing beside her Morrigan sighed, “I can understand the need to clear ones thoughts after such an evening. Perhaps you will be more pleased at the news I bring. An order from the Empress. I am to aid you in anyway you require. With vast knowledge of the arcane and ancient elven lore, perhaps I can be of some aid to your cause. Enjoy the rest of your evening, I shall meet you at Skyhold.”  
Hyacinth nodded, watching Morrigan saunter back into the ball room. Spying another bottle sitting precariously upon the opposite balcony. Sliding her finger tips over the rail, she shuffled towards it as she hummed the song playing in the ball room. Running her fingers down the bottle she weighed the likelihood of Josephine killing her for getting drunk at the ball. “I killed the fucking Duchess, fuck it. I’m getting knackered.” Swiping the bottle into her hand she began drinking down the sweet, bubbly wine.  
“Inquis…. Hyacinth!” Cullen rushed through the doorway and ripped the bottle from Hyacinth’s hand.  
Sputtering the wine splashed down Hyacinth’s neck and breasts, “Maker, damnit!” Hyacinth flicked her hands off, trying to wipe at the sticky, cool juice upon her neckline.  
Cullen tossed the bottle into the bushes near the window and let out a stifled snicker, “how much have you had to drink?”  
“Not enough,” she groaned rolling her eyes at him, “now I am covered in this wine. Good wine, wasted damn good wine.”  
“How much Hyacinth?” being curt with her he leaned in close, “Josephine will have a fit if you end up drinking as you did at Adamant.”  
Groaning she stamped her foot on the marble, “I have earned a pleasant night of drunkenness! I wish to wash the sight of her corpse from my mind!” Tears welled up in her eyes as she gripped him tightly about the neck.  
Wrapping his arms around her waist he pulled her in tightly to his chest, “breathe, you must breathe.” Rubbing her back he felt helpless. Desperately trying to prevent her from falling apart the music caught his attention. Using the music’s soft swell, he whispered into her ear, “dance with me.”  
Sharply leaning back, she looked at him oddly, “dance with you? I’ve never seen a templar dance before.”  
“We don’t, but for you. I’d try.” Reaching for her hand he sweetly held her to himself. Steadying her upon her feet he took extra care with each step. Softly humming along with the song, he lead her in an off beat, and stiff waltz upon the silent balcony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving a fair warning. The next chapter will have some really heavy stuff. Anxiety/PTSD panic attack. There will be a warning at the beginning of the chapter go remind everyone again and a lengthy write up at the end. Thank you and I hope you continue to enjoy this piece.


	16. Nightshade's Allure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: PTSD/Anxiety attack. Symptoms of panic attack, may cause some distress from those easily triggered. There is a note at the end of the chapter. Thank you!

The ball wrapped up late in the evening. Party goers having drank their fill, and eaten their weight in sweet confections into the weary hours of the morning. Cullen and Hyacinth stayed upon the balcony through several dances before Josephine located them. Pushing Hyacinth around the room, meeting this noble and that Comte, left Cullen to a quiet corner. One overrun with unwanted solicitations. Some more salacious then others. One particularly lewd patron attempted to whisper the most scandalous ideas into his ears. Excusing himself he ducked through to find Leliana. For the remainder of the evening he stayed close to her. After far longer than he wanted to stay had past, they were all piled into a coach heading back to their private inn. Dorian had gotten rather drunk and Bull was all to happy to assist him back to his room. Sera giggled and hiccupped as she disappeared to her quarters. Vivienne seemed unchanged from their arrival. The very image of pristine power and calm resolve. Bidding everyone a good evening she too left towards her room.  
Yawning Hyacinth half stumbled out of the coach. Josephine had made a small concession to her, upon their entrance into the coach, Hyacinth could drink as much as she liked. She had liked a lot, several empty wine bottles clinked together on the floor of the coach. Leliana snickered at the silly mess Hyacinth became in the coach. Singing little tunes and telling rude jokes with Sera and Bull.  
Cullen groaned loudly, a show of disapproval as he helped her from the coach and cradled her tightly. Leliana and Josephine bid them good night as they paced off towards their rooms. Half dragging Hyacinth down the hall he managed to get her to her room, “good night, my lady.” Carefully he set her on her bed.  
“No, no…. don’t go,” she whined as her fingers fumbled with the complicated ties to her dress. “I don’t want you to go. You stay.”  
Chuckling he shook his head, “my lady you have had too much to drink. It would be wrong of me to stay.”  
Struggling to get to her feet she snorted, “I’m the Inquizzy… Inquest... Inquizz… the boss. Don’t make me make this,” she waved her hand over the bed behind her, “an order.”  
“If the Inquisitor wishes to order her Commander to bed then I will be forced to remove her from power,” grinning he picked her up about the waist and half tossed her towards the pillows, “it is for the best, my lady.”  
Flopping down she growled as she struggled to lift herself up, “you asked me what I wanted. I want you. Here. Tonight.” Pouting she shuttered, fighting the tears back, “I don’t want to be alone. Please don’t leave me here alone.”  
Cullen felt conflicted. His heart broke for her yet he was more than concerned about her state. Taking a softer tone with her, he sat beside her on the bed, “my la…. Hyacinth. I would stay with you, Maker knows I want to but I should go as well. It isn’t proper for me to stay with you in this state.”  
Curling up on her side she slammed her fist into the bed, “I don’t care what anyone thinks!” Pushing herself up and collapsing under her weight she kicked her feet into the mattress, “I don’t want to be the Inquisitor. I just want to be Hyacinth Trevelyan!”  
Running his fingers through his hair he groaned, “I apologize. I hadn’t realized how tonight effected you. Hyacinth…”  
“You’re the only one who calls me that.” Struggling she sat up on the bed, bringing her knees up around her chest, “at least the way you say it. You speak to me like I’m real. Not some hero. You look at me and you see me. You see the scared little Circle girl, and you don’t judge me.”  
Pulling her gently into his chest, Cullen wrapped her tightly into his arms, “I shall stay with you.” Feeling her snuggle into his side he couldn’t help but smile. Wrapping his arms around her he patted her arm, “you are no small child, Hyacinth. You are one of the bravest, kindest persons I have ever had the honor of knowing.” Softly kissing her fore head, they sat in silence. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to relax. Her warm body snuggled tightly to his, brought welcome heat to his cool hands. “I wanted to thank you. This is the only time I have had with you and I wanted to say… I wanted to tell you…. I…” trying hard to gather the right words he stuttered a few times before finally stopping to calm himself. Feeling each breath fill his lungs he caught the subtle sound. Opening his eyes, he looked down, Hyacinth’s eyes were closed. With the gentle rise and fall of her breast he could see she was fast asleep. Tenderly he laid her down, placing her head atop the fluffy, silk covered pillow. Untying her boot laces, he removed them. Setting them neatly at the foot of the bed, he heard her shuffling in the bed.  
“Don’t… don’t leave….” Her voice was weak as she fumbled for the blanket while tugging at her corset.  
Letting out a soft chuckle, he helped pull the blanket over her, “as my lady wishes.”  
Pinching the ties between her fingers, she tugged and twisted trying to free herself from the uncomfortable material, “help,” she weakly whimpered, laying upon her belly.  
Blushing he gripped at the ties under the blanket, helping her undo the cumbersome corset. Groaning as he watched her leather pants slip from the bottom of the bed and her corset tumble out the side he turned, “my lady… I am… I can’t…”  
Hyacinth let out a chorus of giggles, “have you never slept next to a naked woman without indulging?” Patting the bed, she couldn’t help but get bold with the warmth of the wine still swirling inside of her, “I would never do something we had not agreed upon. Come, I am too tired and wish to sleep.”  
Cullen was frozen in place. Not wanting to leave but feeling tempted to stay he shuddered to think of her pale skin under the blankets. Fighting his inner beast, he tugged his boots off. Removing his jacket, he kept the short sleeve tunic and leather pants on. If he was dressed, he knew at the least he could control himself without fear.  
“Take off your leathers. It’s too hot for that,” she groaned as she watched him strip down, “I swear I shall keep my hands from wandering.”  
Shaking hands trembled as he tried to loosen his ties. At Adamant, the sounds coming from Hyacinth and Hawke’s shared tent rung through his mind. Struggling to keep his excitement in check he chewed the inside of his cheek raw. Sliding his pants down he flushed red as he heard her hum, “Hyacinth, perhaps I should…”  
“No, I promised. Please,” pulling the blanket aside she doused the candles in the room, “better?”  
Barely able to see the bed frame he breathed a lengthy sigh of relief, “much. Thank you.” Quickly slipping his leathers down he pulled off his tunic and crawled under the covers, his smalls the only piece of clothing left upon him.  
Snuggling against his warm body Hyacinth sighed, “Maker you are blessedly warm,” she let out a sharp yelp, “except your feet and hands. They are like ice! Are you feeling alright?”  
“Yes, I am fine.” Throwing his arm over his eyes he tried to calm himself. While he wasn’t unfamiliar with the feel of another beside him in such a way. It had been many years and there was something different about her pressed up against his side. Something made his heart sing when she was near, made his stomach flutter and his brain stop. When she was away he dreamt of the things he’d say to her. How he was proud of her and her accomplishments. How he wanted to be more to her, if she wanted him to. He would adore her like the woman she was and worship her form in ways he could only dare to think in the weary hours of the night, alone in his quarters. Now he was skin to skin beside her and he was silently praying to the Maker that he could keep himself under control.  
Yawning again, Hyacinth wrapped herself around him as tightly as she could. Within a few moments her last resolve broke. Unable to beat back the dragging need to sleep, she slipped into her dreams.  
Cullen could hear the soft sounds of her shallow breathes, and finally began to settle in. Getting as comfortable as he could he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep. Shuffling awoke him and in his hazed fog he began to panic. Feet dragging along the cobble stone floor towards him, until finally something reached and touch his shoulder. Reaching back, he grabbed the creature about the throat. His mind racing back to Kinloch hold, the shuffling of abominations pacing around him as he was imprisoned with the energy barrier. Blinking feverishly his vision focused on the face before him. Hyacinth, turning slightly purple at the pressure building up, from his iron grip. Rapidly letting go he shot back from the bed, tumbling off the side and landing on his shoulders before flopping down into a crumpled ball.  
“Cullen,” Hyacinth croaked out as she scrambled to reach him, “are you alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” Reaching for him she slammed her knee into the end of the bed and came tumbling a few inches from him. Tears in her eyes and the stinging throbbed in her knee she groaned.  
“I… I…” he fumbled to get to his feet, his legs rubbery and his stomach rolling. Nausea rumbled through his stomach threatening to force its way out as his body shook. Crawling, a cold sweat building at the base of his neck he reached the chamber pot and wretched violently.  
Gripping her knee, she began healing herself. Hearing him become ill drove her forward, “please Cullen let me help.” Getting up she reached for the water basin and grabbed the clothe hanging off the edge. Soaking it she quickly chilled the rag and walking back she placed the clothe along the base of his neck, “breath. It will get better. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this. Harrowings can bring on the same symptoms in young mages. It will get better, I promise. Breath carefully and slowly.”  
Cullen choked and sputtered. Racing back to the basin, she poured him a glass of water. Passing it to him, he greedily drank it down. It was cool and refreshing, helping to keep him in the moment. Stopping him from slipping into the horrid memories than tugged at him. Hands still shaking and throat raw he tried to speak, tried in vain to apologize for his actions. He couldn’t bare to look at her, the shame he levied upon himself burned through to his core. Eating away at him as he knelt upon the cold floor. Letting out a weak gasp he was startled when her arms lovingly wrapped around his shuttering frame.  
“Hush, you are here. You are with me, safe and cherished.” Her voice was a safe blanket upon the shaking child inside of him.  
Tears streamed down his cheeks, “will this nightmare ever end? Have I not suffered enough? Given enough?” Holding her delicate hands in his, he choked back the lump threatening to silence him. Turning his face up to her, he focused on her pale grey eyes, “what if I cannot endure? If I cannot fulfil my roles as the Commander of the Inquisition’s armies than all I have fought for means nothing.” Letting out a long sigh he hung his head, “I should be taking it.”  
Taking his cheek into her palm she sighed as she shook her head, “no. You can do this. I believe in you.” Drawing her thumb over his cheek she wiped the tear away, “you are stronger than you know.”  
Taking her hand in his, he smiled. “Thank you,” words that barely slipping past his lips as he turned and embraced her tightly against his chest. She was real, this was real. Not the nightmares that plagued his half waking hours, the horrors that stalked his dreams. Her skin was warm, soft as a rose’s petal and still fragrant from the oils and perfumes before the ball. Drinking in her scent, her body against his, he allowed himself to breath. To calm the storm raging within his body. A mixture of fear and anger, rolling and steadying. Urges to run, to hide, to fight back melted away with her touch. “I never wanted to hurt you, please,” he felt her hand rubbing the base of his neck, kneading the firm knot edging into his skull.  
“My dearest, what happened wasn’t your fault. You would never hurt me, not even by accident.” Chuckling she kissed his forehead, “come, we have a long journey back to Skyhold.” Having been through this with mages before she knew the best medicine was to keep moving forward. Her throat was sore and despite healing the external bruising, it was painful to swallow. Focusing on her dressing she kept an eye on Cullen as he slowly recovered himself and prepared for the trip back.  
Cullen was quiet for the first leg of the journey back, opting to ride on his own upon a horse then sit within the coaches. Hyacinth felt he needed space and was more than willing to give it to him. He was a sturdy man, a man who had endured much and survived. She knew given enough time he would be alright. Focusing instead on the tasks set out from Josephine. Multiple Orlesian families were interested in marriage proposals and between Josephine and Leliana it was difficult for Hyacinth to keep her head in the conversation. Her mind was on Cullen. All those years in the Circle she’d seen it all, or so she thought. Turning back to the conversation she caught briefly the ideas of courting the higher nobles to secure further relations and possible revenue. Leaning her arm on the edge of the coach she stared out, watching Cullen calmly speak with an agent just out of her sight lines. With all the chatter in the coach, the sounds of the horses and wheels, she couldn’t make out a sound. Only watching as he seemed to brighten, laugh even at whatever was being said. It was good to see him laugh, but a part of her envied the person he spoke with. She wished it were her making him laugh. Not being the trigger to his panic attacks. Turning her attention back to the conversation she tried to follow along.  
Miles of road stretched on for what seemed like forever. What should have been a victorious ride back to Skyhold, felt like a dragging sore to Hyacinth. With Cullen riding just ahead of her view, she was left to her own thoughts. Thoughts that plagued her waking and sleeping hours. She couldn’t get the image of Florianne’s body from her mind. Over and over again she played it out. Trying desperately to find the angle that made the situation better. Maybe she could have captured her, forced her to stand for her crimes. Perhaps a sharp blow to her head could have solved matters, leaving her in the hands of the Orlesians. Spinning the situation over again she knew there was no other choice. If only she had said what she felt when asked before going into the Royal Wing, maybe then it could have been avoided. By now with all the travelling and work she’d done, this was not her first killing. Before she simply rationalized that she was saving many more lives by ending the life of the red templar, or Venatori before her. Why then, did Florianne’s death grip her so? Struggling she took to drinking her feelings away at night, when the thoughts bothered her most. Drink numbed the pain, dulled the nightmares and helped her sleep. Drink had done the same many a times in the Circle. Many potions required alcohol bases and the mages learned a long time ago to horde and brew their own unique blends. Different fruits and even root vegetables helped dull the more potent mixtures. When a particularly hard case came in, young mages wounded by fire or their Harrowing experiences, she took to drinking herself to sleep. A habit far easier to come by now that she was the Inquisitor.  
The last night upon the road, stopping at a quant inn a half days journey from Skyhold, she procured three bottles of strong drink. Between her guilt for Florianne, the nightmares from Adamant and the trip through time, she was a wreck. Hands shaking, she quickly drank the first bottle. Sitting alone on the floor of her room she cried. Silent tears full of broken pride spilling forth as she tried to force the thoughts away. Horrors that haunted her. Leliana’s scarred and ashen face from the dark future. Stroud’s blood-soaked hand as he gripped his sword hilt and rushed the demon. Florianne’s mangled corpse, dead eyes staring through her. Wiping at her eyes with her sleeve she removed the stopper on the next bottle.  
With each mouth full her mind slipped free from her thoughts of death and loss. Turning more towards the warmth blossoming through her core. Thoughts lingered on Cullen. His golden mane of coils, honey pot eyes and chiseled features. In the Circle, she had several lovers, but none that felt like him. Taking another long gulp, she drained the second bottle. Feeling bold, and increasingly lonely she tried to stand. Four times she stumbled and landed back on the ground. Each time she let out a chorus of giggles. Flopping down on the bed she stared up at the ceiling. Having drank as much as she had she knew she couldn’t get out of her room. She’d be lucky to make the privy at this point. Chuckling she played with her magic. Making little snow flakes and watching them melt till her fingers were numb.  
Little tricks to occupy the brain to push the horrors back. Sitting up she yawned. Trying again to stand she planted her feet as firmly as she could upon the cool floor. Bracing her hands upon the edge of the bed she stood up. Tettering slightly, she grinned, “I’ve got this,” she giggled as she turned for the door. Fumbling with the door she half flopped into the hallway. Making a clumsy skip down the hall she nearly smashed headlong into Dorian, “oh Maker! I’m so sorry Dorian!”  
Dorian’s cheeks were flushed red himself as he brushed himself off, “no harm done, but,” he waved his hand about the air, “how much have you had this evening? I dare say I am jealous you can stand on your two feet this well. Usually someone is carrying me back to my room, or theirs.” Dorian let out a snorting cascade of giggles as he helped her steady herself.  
Snickering alongside him she put her finger to her lips and let out a long shush, “only two bottles of something, there’s one left in my room.”  
“Lead the way then! It is a sad thing to drink alone, come I’ll join you.” Together they stumbled and bumped their way back down the hall and into her room. Dropping down onto the bed, Hyacinth pulled the cork out with her teeth and drew a long swig. “In our Circle, glasses were a hard thing to come by. Too high of a risk, the templars said. We learned to share.” Passing the bottle back she wiped her lips upon the back of her hand.  
Taking the bottle and imbibing himself he sighed, “our Circles aren’t the same as yours. Ours are more like prestigious schools of learning. Some Circles have more prestige than others. To claim you attended this Circle or that, may be the difference between a good patron or being lower on the ranking list of elites. They are nothing like the stone cages you have here.”  
“When I was there, I didn’t see it as a prison. Now, looking back and having the chance to see the world. I know better. It was a prison. We may have learned to control our skills and hone them but we know nothing of life. Cooking, tending to a farm or a family…” choking up she shook her head, “I am a child in this world. A lonely, scared, fool’s child.”  
Patting her back and pressing the bottle into her palm, Dorian sighed, “we all have our short comings, dear cousin. You can learn, and there are those here willing to teach and aid you in your choices. The South isn’t as barbaric as I was lead to believe,” chuckling he rubbed her back, “we learn something new every day.”  
Drinking a mouthful, she nodded, “perhaps. Mother Gisele says my innocent views are what the world needs right now. Someone who cares for the wounded and the needy, not looking for personal gain or leverage. I thought she was being sweet, colouring my naivetés with pretty compliments. Now I am not sure.” Turning to face Dorian she placed the bottle carefully into his hands, “have you ever felt bad about having to kill someone? Do they haunt you?”  
Choking as he tried to swallow he began sputtering, “Maker no.” Waving his hands out and gasping to catch his breath he slapped his hand at his chest a couple times before turning to answer her properly. “My dearest cousin. Those who have died by my hand either intended to harm me or someone I’ve cared about. Their deaths were their own fault. Had they not intended so they would be alive and well. Or at least the alive part.” Taking a sip from the bottle to settle the scratch of his throat he shrugged, “we all have one or two that haunt us. A death that may or may not have been preventable. We deal with them the best we can. Or in this case, I prefer to drink my problems into oblivion. Harder to think about the horrors when you can’t see straight.” Snickering wildly, he passed her the bottle, “I know, it’s a terrible habit really.”  
Smiling faintly, she took a slower sip from the bottle, “perhaps there is something to that Dorian. In the Circle when I dealt with a hard case, or someone fresh from the Harrowing. I found comfort in the ales, the spirits we’d make in private. They brought me a sense of numb peace. I know it is wrong, and yet,” staring at the bottle she chuckled, “perhaps old habits die hard.”  
Sitting in silence they passed the bottle back and forth till it was empty. Dorian rose to leave when Hyacinth tugged at his robes, “stay, I wouldn’t want you banging yourself off a wall or something on my account.”  
Chuckling Dorian sat on the bed, “my dear cousin, I’ll have you know I snore.”  
“I’m more than alright with that.”  
Morning rose and there were whispered hushes as Dorian groaned and stumbled out of Hyacinth’s room. Something that didn’t go past the notice of the Commander. Quirking his eyebrow, he stopped Dorian in the hall, “rough night?” he tried to remain calm.  
“Please refrain from yelling, Hyacinth wasn’t awake when I stumbled out and I have no potions to make this infernal hangover pass.” Rubbing his fingers at his temples he patted Cullen’s shoulder, “ease up Commander. She is my cousin, all be it distant cousins, we are family. Her essence is still yours.”  
Rubbing at his neck Cullen reached into his pocket, “we have all had rough nights. Here. See to yourself.” Passing Dorian a small bottle he made his way to Hyacinth’s room. Nodding politely, he paused briefly outside her door before slowly opening it and quietly slipping in. Tentatively he peeked into the room, the curtains were pulled tight and it took him a few moments for his vision to adjust. Stifling a laugh, he approached the edge of the bed. Hyacinth was curled up in a ball in the dead centre of the bed. Her body was snaked up tightly around a mountain of pillows, the blanket drawn up tightly to her neck. Clearing his throat loudly he leaned over the bed and tugged at the blanket, “Inquisitor,” his voice was booming as he watched her groan and slowly shuffle in the blankets.  
“Void take you, I want to sleep!” Hyacinth pulled a pillow out and plopped it over her head.  
“Were it so simple,” Cullen chuckled as he sat upon the edge of the bed. “My lady, we are preparing to head to Skyhold shortly. If you wish to eat before the journey I would recommend getting out of bed. If not, I can not guarantee my face will be the next one you see.”  
Tossing the blankets off herself and partially onto Cullen she tossed her hands up to her head. Her hands glowed brightly as she went about fixing her hangover, “ugh, it is good to be a mage some days.” Shaking her head, she turned to Cullen, “I apologize if I offend. It has been a rather rough couple of nights.”  
“Nothing I have not seen in the past. Young templars would go to the Blooming Rose in Kirkwall, and they were in the firm belief that they could imbibe past their curfew and go unnoticed. Not only was that a mistake but the morning drills were always…” chuckling heartily he smirked, “messy.”  
Shaking out her hair she grasped her brush and attempted to tackle her tangled tresses, “Maker, I cannot wait for a hot bath.”  
Standing from the bed Cullen sighed, “A bath would be most welcome.” Stutter he blushed red, “I wasn’t implying we…. I mean… ah…”  
Giggling she turned to face him, “Maker you are adorable. I am beyond pleased you are doing better. You look clearer today. Perhaps…” A loud horn blew outside the window as she groaned, “I suppose breakfast will be on the run.”  
The rest of the journey back to Skyhold was easier on both parties. Hyacinth tended to Dorian’s aches from the ale and Cullen enjoyed laughing and chatting away with several of his soldiers. Arriving just after high noon, they both went their separate ways. Duty taking over, where emotions tugged back. Leliana rushed to her rookery to deal with a mountain of new messages from agents all over Thedas. Josephine returned to her office, a waiting stack of papers and a hot kettle set out for her. Cullen began immediately going through his messages as well. Supply chains, personnel disputes, the new weekly duty roster, and a list of new recruits. Setting down to task he breathed in deeply. This was home for him, and the scent of his books, papers and even the straw of the training dummy in the corner made him relax.  
Hyacinth ordered a bath. It would be a few hours before everyone managed to get through their messages and put together a meeting. In the mean time, she wanted to wash away the nights and days of travel and the evening of the ball.  
Hours passed by as she lazed about in the water, enjoying the heat she maintained. Washing and soaping away every speck of dirt brought a new sense to her. A soul cleansing. Dorian’s words were true. Florianne had indeed tried to kill her and had she been willing to speak she would be alive. The fault was not Hyacinth’s, it was in Florianne’s actions and in Florianne herself. Feeling better, feeling stronger she finished her bath and dressed in something comfortable. Dark leather leggings with a soft, billowing long sleeve pastel pink blouse made her feel attractive. It’s string zig zagged down to her cleavage and having received a bountiful assortment of interesting fashions from Orlais she began picking through items. Lace trimmed bralettes were the new fashion and having picked out a delicate dusty rose one she looked herself over in the mirror. This was not the uniform of a Circle mage, this was the outfit selection of a free woman. Smiling brightly, she undid the ties about her chest, letting the lace just peek out from underneath when she walked, “I look stunning!”  
“Yes, quite so,” Dorian chuckled.  
“Oh!” spinning around Hyacinth clapped her hand to her chest, “I didn’t hear you enter. I’m sorry,” chuckling she waved him in.  
“Everyone seems to be buried in papers, and Bull is up in arms pushing his Chargers in some training drills. I figured you might be up for a game of chess and some of the good wine,” wiggling a bottle and two glasses in his hand he sauntered over to her couch. “I’d heard you had a chess set brought to your room, I’m relieved to see its here and I don’t have to retrieve one.”  
Cheeks tinting pink Hyacinth nodded, “oh yes, that, I… uh, well.”  
“Come, drink some wine and tell your dear cousin about all of it. Leave nothing out,” Dorian popped the cork to the bottle and set about filling the two glasses.  
Stretching his back and shoulders out as he leaned back in his chair, Cullen reached forward and plucked a piece of fruit off the large tray brought to his tower a few brief moments before. “From Lord Pavus Ser, he says you need to keep up your strength for the Inquisitor.” The messenger had proclaimed as he set the filled tray on the only bare spot upon his desk. Turning back, a mouth full of sweet apple he saw the sun in the sky beginning to crest down the mountain peeks. Soon it would be night, and looking back at the stack upon his desk he groaned. Since leaving Kirkwall and joining the Inquisition forces he had been denying himself lyrium for a touch over a year now. A year of nightmares, nerves on fire, numb and froze fingers and toes during the day, and boiling veins are night. Now it was the aches of Command. He was glad the withdrawal symptoms seemed to be ebbing away with each day. Instead his aches and sores came from armor truly too heavy to be wearing daily, but it gave him a sense of safety. Drills after drills with the recruits and honing the skills of his more advanced men. For a man of thirty and one years, he was in the best shape of his life. Training as a templar had been extensive but the near constant demand upon him to train and over see the youth were nearly triple his usual daily exercises in the Circles. With the cravings disappearing he found his appetite returning. It was hard to eat when his stomach rebelled with nausea pangs nearly constant when he first started ceased his doses. Certain foods he loved wouldn’t sit as well as they once had in his youth. Now he revelled in the secret late-night trips to Skyhold’s kitchen where he would indulge in the cheeses, and spiced cured meats. On the rare occasion, he would find a small bit of left over honey cake. These were his favourite nights. Praying silently, he hoped there might be a slice left in the larder. Refocusing on his papers, he began going through the messages.  
Hyacinth doubled over giggling, “oh, I do love you!” Righting herself she moved her piece on the board, “you cheat terribly by the way.” Placing Dorian in check mate she let out a string of giggles.  
“Don’t let it get to your head. There’ll be no living with you,” he snorted as he knocked his king over, conceding his loss. “Sadly, the wine is empty, the hour is becoming late and there is only so much brow beating I can tolerate in one evening,” chuckling he picked up the bottle and glasses. “Perhaps another game, later. I’m sure by now your strapping young templar will be looking for you.”  
Waving her hands, she sighed, “fine, I suppose I should see to things. Whatever that entails. At the least you should eat, dear cousin.” She snickered as he slightly stumbled, “be careful. I will be dreadfully lost without you.”  
“I am not so intoxicated that I cannot navigate the stairs. Your concern is adorable and appreciated. I believe they’ll be coming to you sooner than you think. I hear foot steps.” Dorian pointed towards the stairwell as he collected himself.  
“Ma’am!” a voice bellowed through the second chamber door, “the Commander needs to see you, its urgent your worship!”  
Drawing her hair up into a coiled messy bun she sighed, “I doubt this is for pleasure. Walk half way with you?”  
Dorian chuckled and held out his arm. Together they descended the stairs, strolled calmly through the main hall and into the rotunda. Some of the people whispered and let out shocked gasps as they passed by but Hyacinth paid them no mind. Bidding Dorian a good evening she crossed the stone arch spanning the distance between the keep and Cullen’s tower. Pushing the few stray hairs from her face behind her ear she licked her lips before knocking gently upon the door. “Enter,” his voice was strong and clear making her smile brightly. Opening the door, she was surprised to see him munching away at a tray before him, “oh thank the Maker. I was worried you’d neglected your meals today.”  
Wiping away the few crumbs off his mantle he smiled, “you can thank Dorian for this. He seems to insist I maintain my energy for you.” Snickering softly his expression changed as he looked down at the parchment laid out, “I wish this could be a simple distraction. I have received word. Leliana’s agent captured the man I was working on for information. Do you recall the meeting?”  
“Yes, it was quite disturbing having someone request your blood personally. Did she manage to get any useful information out of him?” Crossing the room, she took the seat before his desk.  
“Yes. We have Samson’s base. And I wanted to make a personal request,” rising from his desk he paced back and forth between his small window and his chair. “I have to work out the duty roster, and place Rylen in charge but, if you will allow it, I request to join the party when they assault his lair.”  
Chuckling she leaned back in her chair completely relaxed, “done.”  
“I can understand if you say no I… what?” he stopped dead in his tracks and tilted his head at the unsuspected answer. “You see no issue in my attending?”  
“None,” she stood up and gripped the paper in her hands. Reading through it carefully it mentioned a location called the Shrine of Dumat. “It seems it would be a journey to make, but I trust you can coordinate your men. We must have someone adept enough here to aid in training the men.”  
Nodding he passed her a parchment, “we have several well-trained swords men willing to run some informative drills. If you approve I can begin setting things in place. It would take a day, but I wish to leave as soon as possible. I don’t want him slipping away from me.”  
“Have you heard from Dagna? I haven’t had the chance to speak with her yet,”  
“Yes,” passing her the parchment he sighed with relief. A part of him was nearly certain she would not allow him to join. Running his hand through his hair he watched her intently as she scanned the pages. She looked stunning in the low light of the candles flickering flame. A healthy glow painted across her checks and her brow furrowed tight as she read. “You look lovey tonight.” He couldn’t stuff the words back into his mouth. This wasn’t the most appropriate time for such conversation and he rubbed at his neck, trying to find the words floating just beyond his reach in his head.  
Chuckling she put the letter down and came around his desk. Reach up to remove his hand from his neck she pressed a light kiss upon his cheek, “I’m glad you noticed. Its been a busy day, perhaps I could borrow you for a while?”  
Wrapping her up in his arms he brightened, “for you my lady, always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a survivor of a brutal attempted murder/suicide. He died, I didn't. I still live to this day (nearly 9 years later) with random panic attacks. Triggered by sounds and smells. I've fought hard to work through them and for the longest time I went without an attack. I had one, the first one in nearly 2 years, the day before I set to work on this chapter. It felt right to dip into that idea when faced with the knowledge of Cullen's experience. Based on my spouses experience in helping me with my triggers, I believe this is a fair play on both parts. I understand if this offends someone, and I apologize if it does. My intention is to be true to the characters and the events and the realism I try to convey in my writing. Thank you for understanding. This chapter was a soul purging cleanse, by the end I felt right. I hope it perhaps helps others as well. You are not alone, you are not at fault, and most importantly; it gets better.  
> Thank you!


	17. Crystal Grace, For Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Strolling the battlements, the warm morning light soothing her skin she breathed in a lung full of fresh air, “I can understand why you insisted I joined you this morning, Commander.” Smiling she squeezed him arm tightly. “The sun is incredible rising over the Frostback Mountains. Such splendid colours, its stunning.”  
“As are you this morning, my lady,” he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. They had strolled the battlements late last night and he had showed her every constellation he could remember. Each one made her eyes twinkle as if the heavens placed their own celestial aura inside them. Stopping to admire the cresting orange orb peeking from the highest ridges he wrapped his arms around her. These moments were few and far in between. Tomorrow they would leave to reach Samson’s lair. There was no guarantee on what they would find, let alone the raw power of Samson’s armor. Letters from the Sahrnia mines had said it well enough. His armor was impenetrable, and made with red lyrium. Having seen the men turned by the substance, there was no mistaking it’s power. Maker knew what it would do when crafted with the skill of a tranquil into armor. Dagna’s research had simply gone on to agree with his general assumption. Without more information on the creation of the armor, there was no way of telling how to destroy it let alone if it had a weakness. Part of him was torn, standing with her pressed against his armor, he mulled the thought over. Would it be best to meet Samson in battle at the Shrine, or perhaps were it best he vacated his lair and left them some clues to defeat him? He had prepared himself for such an option in the beginning when he caught word of Samson’s possible hideaway. Now it was a creeping reality and he needed to be there. Needed to protect her, from whatever powers Samson had within him.  
“You’re thinking again aren’t you,” Hyacinth sighed as she relished his body wrapped safely around hers. “You’ve been too quiet this morning.”  
Shaking the thought from his mind he brought her hand to his lips and peppered her soft knuckles with open mouth kisses, “I can only think of you.”  
Chuckling she turned to see his face, “you are a terrible liar Cullen Rutherford.” Seeing the look of concern in his eyes she reached up and touched his cheek, “my darling, please. Don’t think of such things. I am alright, safe and we will stop Samson. Perhaps when we arrive, perhaps another day. Either way, we will bring an end to the debauchery of the red templars.”  
Grunting softly, he nodded, “if my life had gone differently, I may have been one of them.”  
Wrapping her arms around him she nuzzled her head into the fur of his mantle. Breathing in deep, the scent of fresh soaps and his unique musk she shook her head, “no, I won’t believe it. My Cullen would have never been so foolish.”  
Not wishing to fight her and feeling a warmth blossom from her sweetness he gave her a soft squeeze, “come, Leliana and Josephine will wish to have our meeting this morning. If we hurry we can grab something from the kitchen. I dare say I am famished.”  
Chuckling as they proceeded towards the main Keep she smiled, “you are feeling better. Perhaps it is only the small moments left. I shall be there with you the whole way.”   
Unable to answer, the lump stuck tight in his throat he smiled and nodded to her. Enjoying the stroll over the bridge and through the rotunda they stopped in the kitchens and helped themselves to the larder. Happily laughing and chatting as they continued through the main Keep, Mother Gisele hurriedly bustled up to her, “your worship, may I have a quick word?”  
Smiling she nodded, “of course Revered Mother, is their something I can aid you with?” Turning back, she watched as Cullen politely bowed and proceeded onwards towards the War Room.   
“I hear you are close to the man from Tevinter, yes? I received this letter from his parents. Could you possibly bridge this to the young man?” handing Hyacinth the letter, Mother Gisele bowed, “I will not take up anymore of your time. If you have need of me, I will be in the gardens.”  
Stuffing the letter in the pouch upon her hip she thanked the woman before heading to the meeting room.   
Dorian rolled his eyes as he went through the bookcases lining the halls of the second tier in the rotunda. Surely, he had seen that book by Brother Genitivi somewhere. In the hazy fog of the hangover none of the words upon the spines were registering with him. Frustrated he slumped down into the chair by the crosshatch window. Pinching the bridge of his nose he groaned as he rested his head back. Closing his eyes, he wasn’t paying attention to the bustle of people coming and going about him. It had been a long night of drinking once he parted ways with Hyacinth. Drowning his sorrows before ending up in Bull’s room. Groaning loudly, he remembered he’d left some of his items in his room. Despite the hour well being past noon, he was in no shape to go about his daily work. Throwing an arm over his eyes he debated going back to bed. “This day couldn’t possibly get any worse,” he muttered to himself as he half melted into the cozy armchair.  
“I’m afraid it can, dear cousin,” Hyacinth opened the letter Mother Gisele passed her. “Seems your father is interested in speaking to you. Here,” extending the letter towards him she watched his reaction.   
Snapping forward in his chair he snatched the letter from her hand and rose in one fluid motion. Pacing back and forth as he read he scoffed, huffed and the vein in his forehead became more and more prominent. “Concerned? What my father knows about me could barely fill a thimble!”   
Leaning against the bookcase she crossed her arms, “is there some bad blood between you and your father?”  
“That’s an interestingly accurate idiom,” laughing he folded the letter back up, “seems they intend to send a retainer to meet me at the Lantern and Gull in Redcliffe. From the date of this letter I would say it would take them some time to reach it. Suppose once you return from your venture to the Shrine, would you be willing to accompany me? If it is a trap we kill everything that moves, if not…” his voice sharply dropped to a near whispered hush, “I would appreciate you by my side.”  
“Of course! Do you feel up to taking the trip to the Shrine with us? I am not sure as to who would be best suited for the task.”   
Shaking his head, he sat back in his chair, “no, I fear I will not be in the right mind to do it. If you aren’t busy later I plan on drinking myself into a stupor. Join me later, if you have the mind?”  
Smiling she nodded, “definitely. I must attend to a few things. We leave tomorrow morning. Perhaps, not too deep of a stupor tonight,” she winked and patted him tenderly on the shoulder before padding away down the steps and back to the main hall.   
Cullen neatly stacked and straightened his papers outlining the next two weeks of drills and exercises. Handing the stack over to Blackwall he smiled, “thank you for seeing to the men. Your skill and expertise will improve their skills greatly. Personally, I thank you as well. Without your willingness to aid, I may be forced to stay behind.”  
“Not a problem. Always eager to lend aid,” taking the stack from his hand Blackwall chuckled, “you really are regimented. Have you tried to relax, ever in your life?” Chuckling he put his hand up, “no disrespect Commander. It’s only two weeks. The men will be as well trained as they would be in your hands.”  
Running his hand through his hair he snorted, “Maker’s breath. I have my share of personal time, thank you. Now if you will forgive me, I have to see to my shield and sword for repairs and sharpening.”  
Blackwall let out a long belly laugh before he turned to leave, “right. Well, there are a few of us getting together for a few games of Diamond Back. You’re more than welcome to come lose some coin and share in some mead. Tavern, upper tier just after the dinner hour.”  
“I have plans this evening, though I appreciate the offer.”  
Snickering Blackwall gripped the handle of the door, “right, wouldn’t want to disappoint the lady. Enjoy your evening, remember you leave early in the morning. Chose your evening events wisely.” Not wanting to hear the reply, Blackwall calmly walked out the door.  
Hyacinth hummed a tune as she set about packing her medicine bag and supplies. It was something to pass the time between now and after dinner. She’d already placed her order in with the kitchen for her dinner to be brought to her room. Finished reading and replying to all her letters upon her desk and that had gotten her to late in the afternoon. Packing and repacking her medicine bag several times over, she was finally pleased with the placement of each item. Searching through the new items she picked out a flowing, soft gown. Sheer lace sleeves with a plunging sweetheart neckline lead to a flowing, floor length skirt. The letter inside the bright violet box simply read, “fit for the Herald of my heart.” Confident Josephine had sent letters of appreciation back to all the gift sending suitors, she discarded the letter.   
Clearing room on her desk, organizing her papers to the side she looked out the stain glass balcony doors. Bright fuchsia, deep crimson, pale lavender tones painted the horizon in a wash of water colours. Sighing at the splendor she missed the click of the door latch as servants came up to lay her tray upon her desk. “Good evening, your worship. Your meal. Is there anything else we can do for you this evening?”   
“Nothing for the moment,” sliding into her desk chair she smiled, “I will be away for a couple weeks, take some time to relax.” Tossing a coin purse in the servant’s direction she chuckled, “pray don’t do something I would not.” Bowing excitedly the servants nearly bounced their way down the stairs. Chuckling Hyacinth finished brushing the tangles from her hair and calmly braided it back. She was glad Josephine stopped her from cutting it again. It had grown long, reaching the centre of her back. Tying off the ends she licked her lips. Tonight, she was set to meet Cullen for a game of chess in the garden. Eating her dinner down quickly she grabbed the bottle of wine Dorian had brought her. “The good wine,” he had said leaving the bottle upon her table. Cradling two goblets she skipped towards the gardens. The garden was her passion. Nobles vying for her favour had sent her many exotic seeds of rare or fragrant flowers. In between the meetings, the sleepless nights and odd return times she had turned to gardening. Pots of vibrant colours flowers in all shapes and sizes lined the railings overlooking the massive pathways and green area. Stopping to pluck a simple coral rose from a thorny bush, she breathed in it’s sweet scent before placing it in her hair.   
Only a few people were leaving from the Chantry building, heading back to their rooms for the night. Beyond that the area was quiet, the crackling of braziers and the wind filtering through the flowers filled the garden. Setting up the board and the goblets she merrily sung a tune to herself, completely focused in her work.   
“Will it be repaired by morning? It is imperative that I have them in working order.” Cullen crossed his arms and huffed at the short man covered in soot and sweat.  
“Yes Ser, I understand Ser. Please, I’ll personally see to it myself. It shall be upon your desk before morning light,” gripping Cullen’s scabbard and shield tightly he bolted towards the work stations of the forging room.  
Satisfied Cullen returned to his tower. The days events tended to, he was looking forward to his evening in the garden. Knowing most of Skyhold would be retreating to their rooms for the night he felt comfortable removing his armor. With ingrained discipline, he removed each piece and placed them on the training dummy in the corner. Passing a comb through his hair he gave himself a quick look over in the pocket mirror from his desk drawer. Leaving his gloves upon his desk, he secured belt comfortably about his waist. It felt awkward not having his sword secured to his side. Shrugging the feeling off he changed his shirt to a clean, plain linen tunic. Smiling he mused to himself, it had been a long time, so very long, since he put the effort in for someone else.   
He wasn’t a slouch when it came to personal grooming habits, something the Chantry etched into each of their templars. “Proper care and maintenance of your body will enable you to stay one step ahead of the abominations. Care and patience, keys to stay in tune with the world about you.” His instructor had repeated daily to them in his youth. It was true, keeping the body fed, washed and tended to made for the best trained and able soldiers anywhere in Thedas. He found a sense of peace when he took the time to care for his hair, clean his face of the dirt and grime from training, keeping his facial hair shaved. All this helped make him feel better and when he felt better he performed better. Running his bare hand over his cheek he felt the sting of rough stumble. Not wanting to leave till he was content, he pulled his straight razor from a pouch in his desk.   
Working with precision, each pass of the sharp blade angled just so made his skin smooth again. Cleaning up he opened the small tub of lotion and quickly worked a small amount onto his face. Tidying away his shaving supplies he doused the candles in his office before quietly making the short trek to the garden. He had hoped his vanity hadn’t made her wait long. It would be several days journey to reach the Shrine and he didn’t want to ruin their last night alone in Skyhold by being late. Opening the door to the garden he smiled. She was knelt over a patch of violet flowers, plucking weeds out, a wonderful tune pressed tightly upon her lips. Her dress was stunning and butterflies danced in his belly as he stumbled to figure out the right words to say. Unable to think of anything clever he sighed, “I hope I did not keep you waiting long.”  
Grinning she stood up and dusted her hands together, clearing the fresh soil from under her nails, “I was overly excited, I admit I have been here far earlier than I should have. It gave me a chance to tend my flowers.” Gently pulling a long blossom towards herself, she drew in it’s scent. Sweet, and sharp notes with a touch of underlying musk, “I don’t recall what these are but they carry an interesting scent.”   
“I have never seen such flowers before, I have no doubt they are from Orlais,“ giving the flower a sniff he nodded. “Interesting. Almost masculine, unlike the usual floral female scents of the flowers I have been around.”  
Chuckling Hyacinth waved him to follow her to their quiet spot upon the pergola, “I have been in the tower my whole life, flowers were in books. Each one I sniff, reminds me that I am free.”  
Sitting down in the chair, he couldn’t help but sigh, “it must be scary and wonderful to experience things. Templars can come and go, I can see how it would be for the mages.”  
Pouring the wine into the goblets she shook her head, “no more talk of the Circles. I wish to think happy thoughts with you tonight.” Rosy cheeks blossomed as she handed him a half-filled glass.   
Nodding his approval, he excepted and drew a sip, just barely letting the wine touch his tongue. Bright, sweet and tasting of fresh summer squeezed berries he smiled, “I have never had such wine. It is a good vintage.”  
Chuckling she placed the bottle down, “one of Dorian’s selections. He said I needed to enjoy something as sweet as I am.”  
Cullen mulled the thought over. Dorian had said they were cousins and he had tried to leave it at that, but it nagged at him. Allowing his guard to drop with Hyacinth she was slowly carving her presence in his heart and he couldn’t bare to think of a world without her. Without her at his side. “About you and Dorian…”  
Giggling Hyacinth threw her arms up, “wait, please wait. I would hate to see you feel a fool. Please,” she waited for him to calm and his eyes locked on hers, “Dorian is my cousin, and a sweet dear one as well. I have no family, truly. Yes, I was born to the Baron and his wife, but I have known only the Circle. Dorian has become like a brother to me, and you should rest easy.” Swirling the deep crimson liquid in the crystal goblet she sighed. “I do not wish to upset him, he has been raised to believe his preferences are base and sin. I believe otherwise.” Taking a sip, she enjoyed seeing Cullen’s brows knit together as he tried to piece her words in a thought, “my dear, my cousin prefers the company of men. Women are fine creatures, he assures me, but not to his liking.”  
Half choking on his own air, Cullen sputtered a few times then began to laugh, “now I do feel the fool. Maker, I was so worried you had spent the night together. Like you and Hawke at Adamant.”  
Struggling to stop herself from spitting the wine out she swallowed hard, “Adamant… oh sweet Maker. I still can’t remember half of what happened. I know Hawke lead me of to get some drinks and play a few hands of Diamond Back. The next thing I remember, I was naked and coiled up against her come morning.”  
Cullen’s face bloomed as he tried to calm himself, “you truly do not remember? Then I suppose you have not heard the rumors?” It was his turn to swirl his glass and play the master of knowledge. Beginning the game, he moved his piece upon the board.  
“No, truly I do not and what rumor?” she struggled to focus the heat of her embarrassment made the collar of her dress feel snugger than she had hoped.  
“The mess tent became your personal debauchery show. First Hawke had drinks ordered until even Varric couldn’t stand any longer. Maker that dwarf can drink,” chuckling he moved another piece. “At which point I was informed I needed to remove the Inquisitor before she made a scene. On my way over, Sera barred my way. Something about the little people needing to see a normal lady, not a glowy person. I finally managed to make it to the tent. Where the Chargers were busy singing some horribly lewd songs while you and Hawke danced upon the tables.” He watched her shuffle uneasily in chair as she moved her piece. “I attempted to extract you from the table. It was then Hawke whispered something incredibly sinful in my ear.”  
“Sinful? If you are going to torture me like this, then I demand it goes all the way! What did she say?” Taking another healthy swig of her wine, she refilled their glasses.  
Tenting his fingers, he made another move. If she wasn’t paying attention he’d have her in six more moves. Potentially ten if she did catch on, “fine, there was an offer to ‘share’ you with me. I must admit I did go very red about the face,” watching carefully he saw her flitch at the statement. Smirking wide he continued on, “As I went to answer her you made yourself available to me. Being the Commander of the Inquisition, I couldn’t possible take you then and there. As you instructed. I informed you both to get to bed, and sleep off the wine. It seems you took my advice literally. The sounds coming from your tent were anything but quiet. I am certain all of the army, Grey Wardens and your companions heard the ‘exercises,’ you implored that night.”  
Sliding her piece into place she cleared her throat, “and what of this rumor? Maker, I will never live this down.”   
“Why do you think this garden is empty?” looking around his scarred lip crooked up, “it isn’t the hour. The rumor going about is the Inquisitor enjoys her drink. A little too much and goes on the prowl for an evening partner. Something I have tried to squash, but rumors spread fast in the barrack.” Claiming one of her pieces he settled back into the chair, drinking from his glass.  
Nervously she looked about, “is it a terrible rumor? I… in the Circle sexual pleasures aren’t scolded. You may choose whom you would like assuming they both consented. Many nights I’ve heard a louder coupling than I had wished to. Even some templars with mages, ‘taming’ they would call it.” Scanning the board, she was uncertain what to do. Move her mage forward to bar his priest or to sacrifice her pawn for a hope to take his templar.  
Grunting Cullen watched her ponder her move, “we had such things at the Fereldan Circle before I left. Kirkwall was a different story. Though the ‘taming’ as you call them, were not always consensual.” Carefully she moved her pawn a space forward. “I can understand one’s freeness in their sexual endeavours. Diplomatically speaking, it is best to keep things behind locked doors. Dorian stumbling out of your room, rather disheveled has refueled such speech. Some are even saying you have been corrupted by the Tevinter mage. Of course, I do not believe such things. Dorian has also been kind to me, and many others in Skyhold. Were it not for his birth place, no one would be critical of his actions.” Seeing the obvious set up with her pawn, he opted to claim her mage.  
Scrunching her nose up she sighed, “I am still learning. What is your take on sex?” Cullen nearly shot his wine out of his nose as he erupted into a fit of snorts and coughs. Hyacinth sat back stunned, “was it something I said?”  
Wiping at his face he managed to steady himself, “these things are not usually… well spoken in such…” blushing he took drink to steady himself. Warmth flowed through his veins as he placed the cup back down. Helping to calm him and relax the tension, “what do you mean by ‘my take on sex’?”  
Hyacinth moved her piece and claimed one of his outlying pawns, “in my Circle, we were open with each other. What each other was looking for. Long-term companionship? Simple release or casual encounters? We had up front discussions, in quiet usually. In private, which I believe we are in private now. Noting the lack of people. Or am I wrong, in the term private?”  
Countering her move and taking her knight, he shuffled in his chair, “yes and no. We are alone, for the moment. Private would be in one’s quarters. In the past,” he straightened himself in his chair, feeling more in control of himself as the wine lowered his insecurities. “sex in the past has been for gratification and relief for me. Though, with you,” his hand slipped across the table to grip hers in a sweet embrace, “with you. I want it to be something more.” Her eyes warmed as he ran his thumb over her knuckles.  
Placing her hand over her heart she let out a sigh of relief, “thank you. I was concerned you would not be interested in more. I am not the best choice here.” Turning her eyes back to the board she moved another piece, regretting it left her exposed but hoping perhaps Cullen would pick up on the subtle hint she was leaving him.  
Her positioning was wide open. If he moved his knight he would claim her. Leaning over the board he lifted her chin up, to meet her eyes with his, “there is no one here I would rather spend my time with than you.”  
Emotions overwhelmed her as she choked up. Reaching up she guided his hand from her chin to cradle her cheek, “you deserve someone who is worldly, and can provide the things I know nothing about. Are you prepared to handle my fumblings as I learn along the way? I cannot ask this of you, yet there is nothing more I wish for.”  
Reaching back, he moved his knight in and claimed his victory, “for you, always.”  
Smiling wide and feeling light as air she pushed over her king, “come. Grab the wine and we shall go to my quarters. Private talks must be done in private. Or so I have been lead to believe by my top advisor.”  
Grabbing the bottle and his glass off the table he followed Hyacinth to her room. Walking through the main hall it was eerily quiet. Not a soul about as the fires in the braziers snapped and crackled. Flickering the light across the room. Reaching the door Hyacinth placed her back against it, “are you sure? I do not wish to push you or make you uncomfortable. You will tell me if I have overstepped?”  
Placing his hand upon the door he carefully eased it open as they both walked through. His Cheshire grin the only answer he wished to give her. Watching her turn and climb the steps to her room, he licked his lips at the sway of her bountiful hips. Tightly toned and thick thighs swaying along with the flowing material. Muscle slipped back and forth with her movements and he reveled in the almost backless gown. Riding and fighting had turned patches of her pale skin a light bronze. Her hair once a mousy blonde had also begun to change, shining like platinum against the candle lit stairway.   
Hyacinth swayed over to her desk, the tray she’d ordered remained. Cheeses, cured meats, and some bread laid out for them. “Please help yourself, I made sure to order extra,” blushing she turned back, watching as Cullen refilled their glasses, “I had hoped you’d come up with me.”  
Passing her the glass he placed the bottle beside the tray, “I had hoped to speak with you, and at first it seemed too much to ask. I am relieved you had the same thought as I had.” Each drank a bit of wine before glasses were placed up her desk. Holding out his hand, he felt a rush of excitement flutter through him as she placed her hand in his and he pulled her tightly into himself.   
Wine and time fueled both their needs as he tilted her head up to kiss her lips. Snaking his hands around her waist he pulled his hips against hers as their lips collided. Earning a soft, low moan from her lips it spurred him on. Reaching up to touch her face, to feel the warmth of her smooth skin he couldn’t help but utter a pleased groan in his chest. She was real, her body against his own was real. His nightmares, desire demons uttering tempting thoughts, seeding doubt in any woman he came across and now. Now it was all blissfully washing away. Deepening the kiss his tongue sought hers and she more then accommodated his thirst. Unyielding need built within his core as his pants seemed to shrink about him. Pain near blinding, but on the edge of pleasures doorstep. Pulling her dress down to her waist he lifted her into his arms as he made the few short steps to the bed.   
Fine Orlesian silks mixed with heavy Fereldan furs upon an over stuffed, indulgent mattress easily formed to caress the lovers as they eased into its embrace. Cautious not to lay his weight upon her, he braced himself upon his elbows, drawing a knee up to secure his position above her, “please, tell me this is what you want. I need to hear it.” His voice was but a ghost of euphoric promise as his breath became ragged.   
Breathing heavily herself she struggled to focus on the words. Her tongue a formless mass vainly clutching at the thoughts in her mind, “please, Cullen. Maker, yes, I want you. I need you, only you.” Her eyes were shut as she awaited his answer, his movement, something to ignite the ember burning white hot inside of her.  
“Look at me. I need you to know, I will never harm you. I will never go against your wishes and I cherish you. If you are uncomfortable, or wish me to cease, simply say so and I will,” he rested his forehead against her, trying to calm the pound in his chest and the throbbing in his pants. Surely if he began now, he would not last the way he wanted to. To show her his love and affections. His admiration of her unique beauty and strength. Searching her face, he watched as her eye lids fluttered opened and she locked her gaze with his. “Do you understand?”  
“Yes,” a barely uttered breath came out as she gazed into his glowing amber smoked eyes. Knowing the truth of his words, his sincere care and truth. “I trust you.”  
Angling himself he found her lips once more. Pouring his soul into each pass of his tongue, holding her cheek lovingly in his palm he reveled in her satin, supple lips. Skimming his hand down her side, listening intently for each pause in her breath, each subtle hint that spoke of her wants and desires. Her dress was silken and dangerously thin as it shifted with his movements. Sliding his hands to as far down as he could, he began gradually gathering the material in his palm, raising her skirt centimeter by painfully slow centimeter. Her floor length skirt crept up over her knee and he reveled in her breathing becoming faster, her heart pounding and drowning out his own. “Please,” she mewled out between his lips.   
“Not yet,” he purred back, dragging open mouth kisses across her jawline. Bathing her neck and shoulder in nips and soothing kiss.   
She pawed at his shirt, bunching up the fabric in her hand till her knuckles blanched. Each shift of her skirt, closer and closer to her thighs, to her hips drove her higher. Mercilessly rutting against him, she was whining as he skimmed his hand up her thigh.  
Licking his lips, he wanted to savor this moment. It would be forever in hiss memory and he didn’t want to miss any detail. Running his calloused and scarred finger just under the waist band of her small, she nearly squealed with the promise of release so close. “Do you want me?” He teased dipping his finger lower and lower.   
“Maker yes, please Cullen, please,” she was writhing against the bed as his fingers hooked her smalls and began dragging them down. His face left her side and trailed down her body. Stopping to briefly lavish her ample breast he slid the skirt down and off her. Swirling tongue with feathered lips passed over her stomach, down her hips bones before pulling away. It was a sudden and wonderful shock when she felt his smooth face brush against her inner thigh. Bit by bit he kissed, tenderly nipped and sucked his way long her thigh towards her core. Each press of his tongue, teeth and lips had her uttering curses and slurred words. Drunk on his power over her, her eyes clamped shut she was panting loudly.   
Humming his lips against her thigh his tongue darted out and circled her. Just gracing the sensitive bundle of nerves. Clamping his arm over her hips he held her tight, her writhing and undulating motions threating to knock his face. Chuckling he teased her relentlessly, turning her into a puddle of pleading and begging. When he was certain she could truly take no more, he ran the flat of his tongue up. He felt himself reach levels he’d never believed possible as she let out a loud cry. If he were to keep up his ministrations all Skyhold would hear them. The idea was not unappealing. Flicking his tongue back and forth she shuttered and quaked around him. Her fingers looped into his hair, holding him tightly to her. Easing himself up on the bed, he continued to toy with her, dragging his hand up her leg he plied at her slick entrance. Playing at the wet warmth he worked in tandem, teasing and twisting his tongue as his fingers found and worked their magic. Her motions began to become erratic as she squeezed her thighs around his head. Pumping his hand quicker, her felt her walls crush as she screamed out his name. Riding out her waves he leaned back, licking his lips. Savouring her scent and flavour. Wiping his face on his shirt sleeve he grinned wide, as she struggled to gasp for air, “may I?” Waiting, he wanted her approval, needed it. Needed to be sure before he indulged in his own carnal wants.   
“Yes,” she gasped as she tried to right herself, “make love to me.” Tugging at his shirt, it was quickly discarded somewhere about the room as she tossed it blindly away.   
Loosening his breeches, he managed to kick his boots off, and slide his smalls down with his pants. Pulling her knees up he braced himself against her. As before he eased himself forward, bit by bit until he was full hilted within her. Watching as she clawed at the headboard, each movement causing her to arch her back and let out a string of sighs drove him near the edge. Gripping her hips in his hands he pulled her up and began slowly pitching into her. Each snap of his hips brought more sinfully wicked sounds from her lips as the air filled with skin slapping against heated skin and broken words. Setting an even pace, he wanted to bring her to end once more before allowing his own release. Releasing her hips, he leaned down to her, capturing her lips again as he angled for a deeper sensation. Barely containing the stifled screams of pleasure from her lips he felt himself pushing towards his end.   
“Maker, I’m going to…” she mumbled out against his lips as her arms held him tightly against her chest. Her sudden release squeezed at him, pulling him deeper. Relinquishing his set pace, he locked lips tightly with her as his thrusting became erratic and rushed. Gasping against her lips, “I…” he shuttered as she locked her legs tightly around his hip, securing him to her. Her shifting body and his final buck had him trembling as he spilled deep inside of her. “Hya… Hyacinth…” he shuttered as they collapsed, entwined onto the bed. Heart thumping in his chest, his vison was blurry as he basked in the afterglow of their tandem euphoria.   
“Shhh, stay, sleep. We shall speak in the morning.” She ran her fingers through his hair, humming the same tune from the garden as he reached to cover them with a blanket. No thoughts of arguing entered his mind as he coiled tightly around her body, drawing her into himself.


	18. Embrium Soothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning some trigger panic attack symptoms/discussion.

Lazily stretching as she drifted back into the waking world she grinned at the sensation of his warm body snuggly wrapped around hers. Part of her feared what had taken place was only a dream. A wonderful dream that thankfully was more, it was real. Hearing the steady rhythm of his breathes she knew he was still deep asleep and she hadn’t the heart to wake him. Easing herself from his grasp she quietly went about her usual morning routine. Dressing in silence she set a kettle over the small fire in the hearth. Brushing her hair and braiding it out of her face, she noticed the steam begin sputtering from the spout. Pouring her boiling water into the tea pot upon her desk she heard him begin to stir and rustle against the silken fabrics.   
Racing down the halls, blood thick in the air he felt as if the walls were squeezing in tight around him. “Come, show me what you desire,” the demon’s velvet voice dripped poisoned honey as he fled down corridor after corridor. Reaching the Circle library, he tried to gain access to the stairs out of the tower, only to have the bookcase lurch from its spot and bar his path. “No…” he began panting as frantic eyes scanned the room. “Perhaps the templar prefers a young mage girl, yes?” turning, his back pressed against the bookcase he watched in horror as the demon rounded the corner. Its shimmering violet skin glistened in the well-lit library. Desire. A demon known to tempt their hosts with their inner most wishes. Sex, wealth, power, anything to gain control. They always appeared as young, half naked women. Voluptuous hips, heaving perky breasts, golden chains hanging about their half bare hips. Were one to catch a quick glimpse they might miss the truth. Long, diamond sharp fingers nails against deep plum coloured palms. Flickering and swirling umber demon fire for hair, and two perfectly coiled ebony horns perched at the top of her forehead gave the demon its only menacing feature. Glowing eyes that spoke of softness lured it prey. For this demon fed, and fed well on temptation. Crimson lips, lush and plump curled up over pristine white teeth, “yes, a mage girl for one so young. I wonder have you yet had the pleasure of sampling such fine things in life. I can give it to you.” Heart beating hard in his chest he watched as the demon took on the shape, skin colour, and face of one of the mages in the Circle. A young girl named, Danica. Softly dragging the more human feet across the floor the demon’s voice changed. “Come, Cullen, make love to me.” Her body barren of clothes came across the floor towards him. Soft skin shuffling against the stone echoed about his ears. “No, please Maker. Leave me!” He yelled bringing his hands to shield his eyes, wishing it would take the image away.   
Hyacinth heard him mutter something in his sleep. Heard him utter it again, “No, please. Maker, leave me!” Rushing to his side she laid her hand upon his bare chest. “Cullen, wake up! Cullen, I’m here.”   
Bolting up right and gasping heavily, he gripped her hand in his. Eyes darted about the room as the waking fog clung to his mind. Realizing where he was he flopped back down.   
Tenderly she stroked his hair, “bad dream?”  
Sighing with his eyes closed he gave a faint nod, “they always are, without lyrium they’re worse.” Concerned he may have upset her he leaned up on his elbow the blankets pooled about his waist, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you,” reaching up he tenderly caressed her cheek.   
Sighing heavily, she rested her head against his forehead. “Maker, I love you. You know that, right?” Brushing her nose against his, she let out a soft sigh, “you are everything.”  
Feeling a lightness wrap around his chest, there was a genuine sensation that he was floating. Soaring above all that was before him. This couldn’t be real and yet with the pressure of her skin against his, he knew it to be true. Blooming brightly, he smiled, from the pit of his soul he glowed brighter than the hottest sun, “Maker, I’ve never felt anything like this before. I love you too.”   
Hyacinth hummed as she let the words fill her. Pressing a loving kiss upon his lips she leaned back, “I am so glad you do.”  
Both stared at each other, hearts full and bodies light as air. Until a pounding upon her chamber door startled them, “Inquisitor, we are near ready to leave. We cannot find the Commander however, is he in meeting with you?”   
Giggling into her hand she tried to steady herself. Cullen leaned up on his elbows and held up a finger to his lips, “We are in the middle of important discussion on today’s ride. We shall be down momentarily!” He bellowed out, in his best Commander voice. Hearing the hasty retreat of the messenger he chuckled together with Hyacinth. Catching himself he sighed, “if we wish to make progress to the Shrine, we need to move out.”  
Nibbling her lip, she nodded, “I wish we didn’t have to.” Quickly waving her hands she flushed red, “No! I mean we must stop Samson… I … here, with you. I wish it didn’t have to end.”  
Reaching up he tucked a section of her hair behind her ear, “I understand. The Inquisition must always come first. I shall be ready to travel soon.” Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed he blushed, “If I can find my…. Uh…”  
Jumping off the bed Hyacinth raced about the room searching for his discarded clothes. Snickering as she handed him, his pants she sighed watching the blanket drop down exposing his tightly toned abdomen. A trail of golden coarse hair glistened in the morning rays, drawing her eyes down where the blanket just covered his bareness. Absent mindedly she licked her lips, eyes frozen as he halled up his smalls and trousers. Rippling muscle pulled taut as he tied the strings to his leather pants. Still exposed from the waist up she stared at his size. Broad shoulders pulsed with raw energy, strength enough to hold her firmly down and unable to resist. It sent a shudder through her as he looked about him for his shirt, “have you seen my…” he caught her off guard, a smug smirk crossed his scarred lip. Flexing the muscles in his stomach tightly he chuckled, “am I distracting you?”  
Hyacinth choked and stuttered turning away from him, “distracted, me? Why would I…” before she could finish her bumbling reply she felt his strong arms wind around her waist and pull her into his tight chest.  
Leaning down his lips ghosting her ear, he grinned, “there are many ways I could distract you, my lady.” Running his hand up her side he placed a heated kiss upon her neck, “you make me feel… young age.”  
Giggling she reached up and carded her fingers through his thick, coiling tresses, “if only we had time.”  
Sighing he placed his chin upon her shoulder, “it will be a long journey to the Shrine. We may have some time alone, along the road.” Kissing her shoulder, he let his hands drop and turned. Picking his shirt up off the floor he tugged it over his head.  
Hyacinth felt like she was walking on air as she picked up her travelling bag off her desk chair. Slinging the bag across her chest she watched as Cullen dipped his hands in the water of the wash basin and smoothed back his unruly hair, “I like it.”  
Chuckling to himself he patted his face with the towel, “like what?”  
“Your hair. I’m used to seeing it combed back, but the curls are adorable.” Blushing she fiddled with her finger nails.  
Shaking his head, he patted the few unwilling coils down, “your Commander does not need to be seen as ‘adorable.’ I doubt I would be taken seriously if I let my hair remain naturally.”  
Nodding she smiled, “perhaps that is true. Do not feel you need to be the Commander around me. I shall endeavour not to be the Inquisitor around you. In private at the least.” Watching him tuck his shirt in she gazed over out the stain glass balcony doors, “we should hurry. I’m sure if we don’t someone will come for us soon.”  
“I have to return to my office, I require my armor. I shall meet you at the gates. Thank you, for last night,” he paced towards her, gripping her hands in his he laid another kiss upon her knuckles. “Truly, thank you.”  
Snickering she blushed, “go, if we do not part now I swear we may never leave this room.”  
Breaking their embrace, he scooped a few letters off her desk, “then I shall meet you soon.” As he rounded the top of the steps her voice stopped him, “do you worry they will gossip?” Shaking his head, he looked over to see her fidgeting with the gloves in her hand, “no. I would be more concerned if there was nothing to speak of.” Setting off down the steps, two stairs at a time he had to focus hard to wipe the boyish grin from his face. To return to the imposing Commander. Running his hand through his hair one last time, ensuring the unruly curls stayed in their place, he pushed the door open. Striding down the main hall he didn’t make eye contact with anyone. Shocked gasps and hasty whispers cause him to struggle to keep his neutral façade.   
He arrived at his tower without delay. No one risked the Commander’s wrath by asking him about his appearance or business in the Inquisitor’s quarters. Collecting his items, he tossed the letter upon his desk. Glimmering in the morning light of the tower his sword and shield sat upon the chair behind his desk. Donning his armor, he strapped the equipment to himself, slinging his travelling sack over his shoulder he set off towards the gates.   
Solas, Varric, Ironbull and Hyacinth awaited him, packs slung on the backs of their horses. “Curly, glad you could make it. Haven’t seen you in action for some time. You still know how to use that thing against living targets?” Varric chuckled as he righted himself in the saddle.   
Paying Varric little mind, he secured his pack to the horse pulled fresh from the stable for him. A brilliant chestnut, Fereldan stallion, “I hope you are as quick with Bianca as you are your words, dwarf,” he sneered pulling himself into the fine leather saddle.   
Solas rolled his eyes, letting out an audible snort, “we had best begin our journey. There is far too much ground to cover and we do not have the luxury of time.”   
Ironbull rode up beside Hyacinth as they cantered down the stone bridge away from Skyhold. Travelling down the cobbled highway, and dirt roads there was light hearted banter between the group members. Solas fielded questions on the Fade, different magic techniques and other random thoughts. Varric added his sarcastic and witty thoughts to the random conversations, even bringing up ideas for a new book, “This Shit is Weird, by Varric Tethras.” It managed to have the group in collective titters of laughter as the day drew on. Making camp the first night, they slept in shifts to keep watch.   
Morning was a collection of quiet grunts and half-awake eyes as they rushed their journey along. Cullen pushed them hard, driving them as quickly as they could towards the Shrine. Everyone seemed to except the furious pace, all except Varric. He moaned and griped every step of the way as they drew closer and closer. After nearly a week of hard riding, Varric’s near constant complaints and Solas’s droning about the Fade and other things they were a half days ride from their goal. Setting up camp they dug in for the night. Cullen offered to be first watch, and no one objected. Varric paced off into the woods, Bianca tightly gripped in his hands.   
Hyacinth stretched her weary limbs. Never in her life did she ever expect to travel in such a fashion. Her hips ached, her back pleaded in agony for her to relax. Bending down to grip her ankles, she stretched her lower back, feeling the muscle warm and tingle. Holding the stretch for several moments she let the thoughts of the day slip from her mind. Tomorrow they would leave to the Shrine and from there, it would be up to the Maker to decide their fates. Walking her hands out she felt the heat of her biceps. Reveling in the stretch she held it for a few more moments. Scanning around her she breathed in deep, calming breaths. Looming grand oaks provided cover from the elements. Only a faint breeze past over her, slowly growing cooler as the sun began descending in the evening sky. Standing from her stretch she could smell the fire burning, hear the sound of water bubbling away. Pushing her hands into her back, hearing a sharp pop, she rolled her neck.   
“Everything back where it needs to be?” Bull chuckled as he helped Solas finish putting up the tents.   
“You’ll forgive me, Circle mages are not known for their riding skills. It is a miracle my mare has not bucked me to the ground,” sighing she sat upon a stump by the fire, adding a few more dry logs.   
“It’s because the horse likes you. You treat her with kindness. Something riders forget,” Cullen was busy breaking down dry tinder to keep the fire going.   
Smiling Hyacinth started to rummage through the packs and get the cooking gear out, “perhaps. She is a marvelous beast. Chestnut?” she clicked her tongue as the mare gave a happy snort. “That’s right! Who’s a good horse, you are!”   
Chuckling Bull and Cullen joined her. Bull heaving over a long-fallen log to use as a bench, “now there is enough room for everyone to get cozy by the fire.”  
Comfortably lounging by the fire, they awaited Varric’s return with their dinner. As they arrived into the area he was certain he spotted a few rams rooming about. Solas had managed to snare a few rabbits the night before, and Bull made short work of a couple fennec with a couple knives. Hyacinth’s extensive knowledge of botany had lead them to a bounty of edible berries and vegetables. Over their trek they had eaten surprisingly well. Everyone contributing in some method from camp set up to cooking. Tonight, Bull pulled the deck of cards from his back pouch, “how about a game to tide us over?” Shuffling them in his massive hands they made a crisp crackling sound as he began rearranging the cards.   
Cullen blushed and squirmed in his seat uncomfortably, “last time I played calls with all of you,” he shuttered, “I still can’t find my… never mind.”  
Varric chuckled pacing back through the bushes, “am I ever glad I returned when I did, I wouldn’t miss that line for anything.” Slinging the large ram off his shoulders in front of Bull he snickered. “Ruffles didn’t give all your gear back?” plopping down upon the log he snickered, “I wouldn’t put it past her to have given those to some Orlesian, pompous ass to get some token for the Inquisition. Don’t expect to see those ever again Curly.”  
Bull’s body jiggled as he laughed, taking his large blade out. Beginning to clean the evening’s meal he snorted, “come now Cullen, just a game for fun. Solas, care to play a hand or two?”  
Plucking the leaves off of an elfroot he nodded, “I have only played Diamond Back as of yet. You will need to explain the rule to any other game but I would enjoy a hand or two.” Smiling he stuffed the leaves carefully into a pouch, the sound of glass bottles clinking together rang out as he sealed the sack.   
Hyacinth nodded, “we played Diamond Back in the Circles but that was really all. If there is another game, I would love to learn it.” Peering back at Cullen she smiled, “as long as it is for fun. It is a rather long walk back to Skyhold if one was to lose their shirt.”  
Varric nearly toppled off the log, laughing hard, “Maker, if it was only his shirt he might not be so red now.”  
Groaning Cullen rested his elbows upon his knees and poked at the fire with a slender twig, “I shall play a few hands. At least the ambassador isn’t here to relieve me of my items.”  
“Glad to see you aren’t letting it hold you back, Curly,” Varric wiped at his eyes as he took the deck from Bull’s outstretched hand. “Alright, let’s start with some Diamond Back. We can teach Chuckles and Bumbles Wicked Grace once dinner is over.”  
Varric dealt everyone in as Bull finished cleaning the ram. Chatting and laughing they shared the wine skin around filled with honey mead. By the end of the first hand, dinner was bubbling away in the cauldron and everyone was feeling a pleasant hum induced by the ale. Varric tried to explain the rules of Wicked Grace to Hyacinth and Solas as they cut the cards and began again.   
As night drew in and dinner was served everyone grew quiet, watching as the stars began to glint and shine in the near pitch-black sky overhead. Varric patted his belly and sighed, “nothing like a starry night sky.”  
“A truly inspiring sight, child of the stone,” Solas grinned as he stood up from the fire. “I am turning in for the evening. We should get an early start, I’m sure the Commander is eager to reach our target. Good night,” turning his back to everyone he disappeared into the tents.   
Bull rose next, stretching his frame as high as he could. Grunting he yawned, “good idea. I can take second shift tonight. Don’t think we’ll face anything, haven’t seen a person in miles.”  
Cullen nodded as Bull marched off to his tent. Varric broke in next, “guess I’ll take the last one, hopefully I’ll find something tasty for breakfast.” Plodding off towards the tents, the sound of clothing rustling and the crackle of the logs filled the air. Cullen tossed the twig into the fire, the embers flickered and burst into the air. “You should retire and get some rest. We will leave as soon as possible in the morning.”  
“He really bothers you, doesn’t he?” Hyacinth’s voice was soft as she slid beside him. Daring to reach out and link her fingers in his. Running her thumb over his knuckles she watched as his eyebrows knit tight, his jaw clenched and he drew a long breath. “This hunt for Samson, this quest is personal. It’s a penance for you, isn’t it?”  
Tilting his head to the side he placed his other hand on top of hers, “it is. When I arrived at Kirkwall, he and I were room mates. He was a good man once, but that does very little for the current situation.” Taking in a deep breath he let out a long gush of air, “from what I gleaned from Dagna, Maddox’s careful crafting would leave Samson’s mind in tact. He could consume red lyrium and not withstand the effects. Everything he’s done. Corrupting the order, feeding men red lyrium till they turned, following Corypheus…” shaking his head he clenched his fists till the knuckles turned white. “All of it, was his choice. He did it all with his mind in tact. How? How could he do this to those men and women? Men and women who gave the ultimate sacrifice to protect the world as templars of the Order.”  
Hyacinth sat back upon the log and looked up into the night sky, a single shooting star soared across the darkness before disappearing over the tree line. “I think I understand. I felt similarly when they voted to leave the Circle. I wondered if we deserved freedom, and I worried for those who lacked control. Those who did seek power and control. I saw good mages afraid for their lives and bad mages take advantage of it all. I think, there is good and bad in everything.” Nodding she placed her hand upon his back and rubbed circles, “I know it isn’t a comfortable thought, but perhaps he feels he serves a greater good. Or simply wishes to serve. So few templars I knew seemed interested in anything else.” Silence blanketed them as they sat in thought. Not wanting to upset him she stood and stretched, “be safe this night. I shall greet you in the morning.”  
Cullen watched her disappear into her tent as he remained by the fire. Adding logs when it grew low, and keeping an ear open to the sounds about them. It was a quiet night, as it had been the other several nights it took to reach the Shrine. Part of him was greatly relieved for the calm before the storm. Part of him wished there was something to sink his blade into. Something to make the horrors of his thoughts leave him. Had he ever been so true to the Order that he would have followed blindly? Kirkwall entered his mind. Meredith and her constant belief of blood mages around every corner. How wrong she had been. Her every effort caused and solidified the mages rebellion. Caused the outpour of blood magic. Seeing Hyacinth, hearing her words he could see it now. How a mage may use the horrid magic, if only to escape the possibility of Tranquility or worse yet, death. Tossing another log on the fire he watched as the flickering embers jumped into the air and flittered down into ash. Time seemed to move slowly and he found himself shaking, the cold nipping at his hands and feet. A side effect of the lyrium withdrawal. While the symptoms had improved and he could tolerate the sight of lyrium, it still left his body aching occasionally. Left his hands and feet susceptible to the cold. It was at its worst when he was tired. When he was worn down from too much work, too many letters, too long on the training grounds. He had pushed them hard, perhaps too hard as he starred up at the night sky. Twinkling specks blanketed the near pitch-black ceiling above him. Stretching out his back he thought about waking Bull. To take the next shift when Solas appeared from the tents, “what brings you out this night? Troubles sleeping?” he smiled warmly as Solas took a spot near him.  
“The Fade here is troubled and it makes my sleep difficult,” he sighed as he warmed his hands over the fire. “Perhaps I shall take the second watch? I can wake Varric when the time is needed. Go rest Commander, you have done your part.”  
Cullen let out a soft chuckle, “I appreciate it Solas, my hands and feet are near frozen I fear.”  
“Ah, yes. Lyrium withdrawal. I would best guess you should nearly be clear of your worst symptoms. Given a couple more months, I believe you would be clear completely,” Solas spoke without emotion as he leaned his staff upon his knee. Twisting and arcing his fingers the flames before him swayed to his gentle manipulations, “have no fear Commander, I have mentioned none of this to any one else.”  
Sputtering at the words Cullen placed his water skin back at his feet, trying to regain himself, “Hyacinth went to you? What do you know of?” Eagerly he watched the elf seem disinterested in his worries as he continued to toy with the fire.  
“Only of your symptoms. I suspected lyrium withdrawal. Interestingly, lyrium in its raw form is a heavy metal. It is diluted and augmented to make it safe for non-mages to consume it, I mean templars mainly. It reacts in the body similarly to many of the Antivan metal based poisons. It clings to the organs, causes nausea, numbing of the hands and feet. Aches in the muscle and nerves can be present as well. The poisons are lethal and horridly so. Seeing as I could rule out poison, and you, yourself had admitted to being a templar, it was very obvious to me. Not so to Hyacinth. I did not inform her until you told her. It would have been wrong of me to interject,” snuffing out the long licking burst of flame he straightened his back and regripped his staff. “Once you had said so, she came to me. Asking of cures, and treatments. I aided her in creating her potions and tinctures. It was a matter of time before the poison full leeched from you. You have been remarkably strong Commander, you have my sincerest respect.”  
Unable to think straight, his agony described in such an emotionless torrent set him back. Nodding he could only think to thank him, “I should thank you then in your aid. The potions have eased most of the symptoms, on the bad days it made life tolerable. I appreciate the kindness you have shown.”  
Solas seemed to prick at the statement, as if an unseen dagger had pierced his side, “you are welcome.” He muttered out, “you should get some rest. I shall watch over the camp.” Turning his back to Cullen he began crafting something out of sight.   
Lifting up off the log he was unsure how to take the strange mage. Pacing off towards the tents he pulled back the flap. Letting out a muffled gasp he was shocked to see Hyacinth curled up with her bedroll in his tent. She looked so sweet and innocent, resting peacefully. Stripping down he tried to be as silent as he could. Years of discipline deeply engraved into his core had him folding his clothes neatly and placing them at the edge of the tent. Just as he had learned through years of training. Years of repetitive motions, removing, folding, tending to his personal belongings. Desperately trying to not wake her, he tried to levitate into the bedroll. Barely lifting the edge of his blanket. he slipped his foot inside and with extreme control he pressed himself down and slid into the bedroll.   
“Cullen,” her voice was thick with sleep as she reached for him, “hold me.”  
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he purred as he got comfy and pulled her tight to himself. Wrapping his arm around her, he drew in a deep breath. Her scent filled his nose, and her warmth helped lull him into a deep relaxation. He didn’t want to take this moment for granted.   
Blinking the sleep from her eyes Hyacinth could feel him still snuggly against her back. By the steady rise and fall of his chest, she could tell he was still deep in sleep. Not hearing anything other that the normal sounds of the forest about them, she cozied back in. Wishing to remain with him as long as she could. In a few hours, they would be standing at the Shrine’s entrance and there was no way of telling what they would face. Hearing the birds twitter their song she took a brief moment to just enjoy this. Birds may have sang at the Circle but to be as she was now. Nothing could compare to this moment.   
“It’s peaceful,” his voice murmured in her ear as she snuggled her tightly, his hand seeking hers. Lacing their fingers, he loved this wake up. To have gone the night without any incident was rare and if this was a glimpse of what could be, it made him crave it.   
“We should prepare for the day,” she half heartedly sighed, bringing their clasped hand to her lips. Brushing each finger tip against her lips she pressed a tender kiss to each pad.  
Humming his appreciation, he kissed her exposed neck, “I wish it were not so. Is that too greedy to say aloud?” He let a soft chuckle vibrate over her skin and listened for the soft gasp that passed her lips. Maker, that was a sound he wished to hear everyday for the rest of his life. Feeling her shuffle about he leaned his head back. Turning over to face him, she had a smile so wide upon her face he was certain it couldn’t grow any further. “You are so beautiful,” he sighed. She had released their hands to turn and he now reached up and caressed her cheek. “Maker, I am a blessed man.”  
She giggled as the warmth blossomed inside of her, “you are too kind, Cullen Rutherford.” Tucking the loose hairs about her face behind her ear she couldn’t stop smiling. Of all the things lovers had said to her, none had called her beautiful in the deep way he had. His eyes shimmered like gold upon an autumn kissed leaf. There was truth in his eyes, a genuine heartfelt honesty that touched her. No one had said they were blessed to be with her, let alone know her. Were it not for their location she may have made advances upon his mirth. Running her finger tips over his exposed chest, feathering the golden thin, hairs, she sighed.  
Purring at her touch he kissed her forehead, “we really should begin to prepare for the day. Varric will be cooking breakfast soon and then we do not know what we shall face yet.” Resting his forehead against hers he tried to shake the thoughts from his mind. Samson’s armor may be impenetrable.   
Sensing his concern, she threw back the blankets. Kissing him upon the lips she half jumped to her feet, “come, breakfast is waiting!” she giggled as she began spinning about while she dressed.   
Her actions were infectious as he chuckled at her childish display. Leaning up in bed he let the blankets roll down about his waist, “hush, you’ll wake the camp!” he placed his finger to his lips and tried in vain to regain some of his commanding form.  
Chuckling she brushed her hair, “oh this?” humming a tune she danced about, “if I don’t do this people will think I have done something strange. I always do this when we travel. It helps brighten my mood, even when we trek into danger.” Following the comb with her fingers tips she hummed away until the words of the song finally broke her lips.  
“That’s Maryden’s song. One of those little tunes she plays at the tavern,” he snapped his fingers trying to remember the name of the tune as she sung away. “Maker, I cannot recall the name of the song.”  
Giggling she danced about, tapping her toes to the music only she could hear, “Empress of fire,” she stopped and tied her hair, swaying her hips to the song in her mind.  
Rising from the bed he began preparing himself. Tugging on pants, “that’s it! Maryden is quite talented, do you agree?”  
“Yes, she even has a song about Leliana. It is beautiful and soft. I wonder if she has heard it?” packing away her items she sighed, “we never had such wonderful music in the Circle. Maryden is wonderful!”  
Sighing he smiled at her innocence. The beauty of her purity. It was a bitter joy. To be denied this for so long and to experience it all for the first time, “I envy you sometimes,” he gave a half laugh, “you have the pleasure of enjoying things we take for granted all too easily.”   
Stopping in her tracks she stiffened, “I never thought of it that way.” Cocking her head at him, her face knit up in childish wonder she snickered, “do you not enjoy music so?”  
He had to think hard upon the words. Music was something he did enjoy, and he remembered his training as a young man when one of the boys plucked away at the lute in their personal time. That boy had grown and he had just gotten word before they left that he had joined with the red templars. His face crinkled in a moment of sorrow, “I did once.” Clearing his throat, he tried to shove the horrid thought from his mind, “are you ready?”  
Feeling she nicked a sensitive nerve she only nodded. Following him out of the tent they could see Varric cooking away upon a large pan, “what do you have for us this morning Varric?” she smiled wide, taking a seat near him.  
“Managed to find some eggs. Some ram left over from last night. Should be a hearty enough meal to get us going. How did you and Curly sleep? You look well rested.” He snickered as he poked at the meal with a knife, carefully turning it over in the pan.  
“We slept fine Varric. Sleep, that was all. I do not wish to be another, slightly off named character in another one of your novels.” Cullen huffed sitting down beside Hyacinth.  
Plating some of the food for Hyacinth, Varric chuckled, “ah so then you have read my novels. Right Colin?”  
Grumbling under his breath, Cullen’s face tinted a bright pink as he reached for his helping. “Cassandra is very fond of your novels. Especially the Sword and Shield edition. I am surprised you didn’t catch her indulging herself on the boat ride to Fereldan. Or where you too busy mocking the sea sick Fereldan?”   
Letting a belly roll ripple through him Varric nodded, “I genuinely had no idea, until our Bumbles here came to me. Said that the Seeker was hard up for the next edition and asked if I could accommodate her. Of course, I couldn’t let an opportunity like that pass me by. We delivered the book personally. Best moment of this year,” he burst into laughter again as Cullen’s dumbstruck look brought the whole story into perspective. “Though,” he managed to calm himself enough to ask, “I am dying to know. How did you know she was a fan of my smut?”  
All eyes locked on Cullen as Bull and Solas emerged from their tents, slinging their packs to the ground before sitting near the breakfast bounty. Clearing his throat, he shifted in his seat, “well… I… uh…” looking over to Hyacinth he found her snickering into her hand, also awaiting his reply. Letting out a gush of air he hung his head in defeat, “she would read them to me.”  
The tips of Solas’s eyes blotched red as he fumbled with his fork. Bull roared in a fit of laughter, “that is some interesting choice of bed time stories, Cullen. Very interesting.”  
“I’m a well-read man, and fully literate thank you,” he snorted back digging into his meal.  
Hyacinth tugged at his arm as the groups laughter faded into a hush. “Cullen…” her voice was a half whisper as she pulled at his sleeve.  
“Yes, I understand it may seem odd but there was….” Turning to see what had brought such silence to the group he groaned in horror as they all saw the billowing cloud of black smoke roll up over the tree line.   
“That’s coming from…” Hyacinth gasped loudly.  
“The Shrine,” Bull and Cullen finished in near flawless unison.


	19. Corrupted Roots

Everyone scrambled to pack the camp, scarfing down their breakfast as the smoke billowed over the tree line. Strapping their packs to the horses they rode them hard, rushing to make it to the Shrine. Solas was first off his horse, expertly dismounting and snatching the reigns as he pulled the horses towards a safe distance from the outer wall of the Shrine, “go I shall be right behind you!” he yelled over to them.   
Hyacinth watched as Cullen wrenched his blade free from his side, levelling his shield he charged in. Kicking down the weathered and rusted wrought iron gate his eyes scanned the courtyard. Seeing movement, he called out, “red templars!” Spinning the blade in his hand he yelled towards them, “come face me Samson!”   
Pulling her spirit blade and shield she turned to see Varric engage Bianca, Bull heave his large ax and Solas racing back, staff in hand. Pushing forward as a team, they flooded into the tight courtyard. Barrels a blaze, wrecked, broken tables littered with tomes and papers shredded in ash dotted the yard. All around them things were aflame, ripped and in complete disarray. Only a hand full of red templars came out of the surrounding doorways. They appeared to be weakened as Cullen cut through the first few easily.   
“This has to be those left behind to slow our intents,” Solas yelled as he froze one solid.   
“Yes,” Bull slammed his ax down and shattered the templar ice cube. “If we hurry we may find clues inside before the fire consumes everything.”  
Hyacinth tore off towards the door before she let out a shriek and stumbled backwards. Slipping on the freshly spilled blood upon the stairway she tripped and skidded down a few steps. Landing on her rear she scrambled to get up, “behemoth!” she yelled as she fumbled, scurrying to get back towards her group. Roaring loudly the behemoth shook the ground as it shambled out of the building. Towering nearly a full body length taller than Bull, its grotesque shape was a mass of red crystals. If it was a human, it had long since stopped being such. Whatever templar went through the process of becoming one, must have suffered greatly as not a single section of skin remained. All that was visible was a distorted face like structure with pulsing, glowing embers for eyes.   
Solas lifted his head and pointed towards it, “we need to wear it down! Varric,” he yelled out as the last red templar fell to a wall of arrows.  
“I hear ya,” cranking Bianca into a higher setting he let fly a volley of arrows towards the center mass of the creature. Most bounced harmlessly off, only a few slipped through the crystalline body of the behemoth. It’s hook like arm, glinting in the flames slammed down as it shriek shook the area about it. “I think I’m just pissing it off!”  
“We have to break it down somehow,” Hyacinth screamed over the Solas.  
“Ice!” Cullen yelled back, “perhaps he can freeze it, but it will require some muscle to breakdown.”  
“I’ve got this,” Bull yelled, pushing Cullen back he turned to him, “don’t get the blood in your mouth. Its laced with this shit.”  
Cullen could hear it, like scratching at the base of his skull. Where the regular lyrium sang to him, called him with sweet promises, this red poison seemed to feed his anger and negative thoughts. Dipping into the pit of his darkest needs it forced them forward. Clenching and unclenching his hand around the blade he wanted almost desperately to plunge it into a target.   
Solas poured his mana into his staff, lips mumbling silently as he drew from the fade. Hyacinth could tell by the feel of his mana it wasn’t ice he was conjuring, “get back!” she screamed to the others as Solas finally pulled his staff back to launch his assault. The earth shook and trembled around the behemoth as the dust began to lift into the air. Grunting and fighting the magical draw the crystalline brute roared as it’s feet slowly began lifting from the ground.   
Hyacinth watched Solas’s eyes flare blue as he reached upwards. Shifting her focus back towards the creature she blinked in awe as it rose rapidly up in the air, cresting the highest peak of the massive Shrine spires before a gush of air past all of them and the magic Solas summoned slammed the beast down to the ground. Its force burrowed the beast several inches into the dirt and stone ground.   
“Now!” Solas gasped as he leaned upon his staff.   
Bull and Cullen rushed forward. Bull slammed his ax as hard as he could into the head area of the creature. Diving down into the chest of the beast Cullen plunged his sword nearly to the hilt, feeling the crystals scratch at his armor and gloves. Both men withdrew, taking several hasty steps backwards as they waited. Eerie silence fell over the area as they gathered round the settling dust and lingering tensions.  
“Is it?” Hyacinth barely whispered as they stood a few steps away from the creature.  
“Yes,” Solas nodded, “it is dead.”  
“Maker take you,” Cullen cursed as he turned his eyes towards the main doors, “we need to press on. If there is any clue left behind, or Samson we are wasting time out here.”  
Hyacinth grabbed Cullen’s arm as the rest went towards the doors, “what’s going on? Are you alright?”  
Tearing his arm from her he gritted his teeth, the blood lust and lyrium distorting his thoughts, “we need to be done with this place.” Turning his back, he paced off, blade gripped tightly in his hand.   
Unsure what to say or do she followed the group into the building. Small fires dotted the inside of the empty halls and passages as large spires of the repugnant crystal towered to the tallest corners of the cathedral ceilings. The Order banners lay slashed and burning, still clinging to the old masonry. Bodies of red templars lay about, tossed aside like morbid decorations as she cleared the small entry way. Using her barrier spell she smothered as many of the fires as she could. Tables were overturned, chests smashed, some ablaze as she cautiously put out another small fire. Wiping at her brow she heard Cullen yell for her from deeper within. Racing towards his echoing voice she hopped over several more bodies.   
Coming into a private room secluded in the back of the shrine she saw Cullen knelt in the dimly lit corner. Solas was working over him but shaking his head walked away. “What is…” she stopped when she reached his side. Looking down she noticed there was a man huddled up against the wall.  
“Can you do anything?” Cullen’s voice was pleading as he looked over at the young man.  
Hyacinth’s hands glowed as she waved them over the man’s body. Focusing hard she shook her head, “sadly no. He’s ingested powerful poisons. He’s got minutes at best left, I’m sorry Cullen.”  
“It is of no concern Inquisitor. Knight-Commander Cullen, I could not allow you to capture me. I had to ensure Samson got away,” grunting softly the young man cozied up to the wall.  
Cullen’s fist balled up, “for Samson? You did this for Samson?! Maddox, we were never going to harm you.”  
“I am aware of this. That is why I took my entire supply of blightcap essence. Do not feel sorry for me. Samson gave me purpose; my life is equal repayment for his kindness.” Samson’s youthful face blanched and his eyes began to glaze over. “Be well Knight-Commander.”   
Hyacinth shook her head, “he’s gone. We can’t leave him like this…” reaching out she closed his eyelids and offered a soft prayer.  
Cullen stood up and paced about before letting out a howling roar. Gripping his shield tightly in his hands he slammed it into a pillar of red lyrium. Metal and crystal recoiled off each other, filling the quiet halls with a vicious crackling sound as a thick ribbon crack zipped along the impact point on the lyrium. Smaller sections shattered and fell to the floor, as he breathed heavily. “Curse you Samson, to the Void with it all!”   
Unsure of what to say or do Hyacinth looked over to see Bull and Solas sorting through the items in the room. Varric waving for them to come to the adjacent room. Bull tossed down a handful of empty lyrium bottles, “ugh, licked clean. I’m guessing this was Samson’s room. Guys got issues.”  
Solas picked up a letter off the table, “there is a letter here.” Scanning it over he quirked an eyebrow, “Inquisitor, I recommend you view this.”   
Hyacinth watched as Cullen paced about checking a chest near the back half of the room. Meeting Solas halfway she took the letter. Reading the first few words she dropped her voice, “this is for Cullen.”  
Peeking over her shoulder he nodded, “agreed. He is not in a state to be able to handle the words written upon that parchment. I believe it best we hurry along. If we stay much longer I fear what may happen to him with the red lyrium being what it is.”  
“I’ll take care of him,” folding the letter she placed it in her pouch before Varric’s voice caught their attention. “Guys, I think I found something!” Rushing out they all clamored to reach Varric’s location. A small room off the side of Samson’s room could only have been Maddox’s personal quarters or work room. Most of the room had been singed with fire, soot and ash clinging to the air. Hyacinth coughed as she waved about her face, “what have you found?” Holding up a set of blackened instruments on a large ring Varric grinned, “I’ve seen enough tranquil in Kirkwall to know these are tools. Tools crafted by a tranquil and if Maddox was fixing up Samson’s armor. These would be the things he’d use.”  
“If those are indeed the tools used to craft the armor, I am certain Dagna may find a way to undo him with those,” Solas pointed out a soft grin upon his lips, “I believe you have him.”  
“Now we simply find the bastard,” Cullen’s words dripped with venom as he tossed a sack to Varric, “bag them, there’s nothing more for us here.” Ignoring everyone else Cullen headed for the door. His stomach rolled, his veins burned and he felt white hot anger coiling tightly within himself. More so than ever before and he knew it wasn’t his feelings. Maddox’s death was unnecessary, disheartening and a personal burden to his soul but it did not render the feeling brewing under the surface. He felt dangerous, out of control and it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why. Red lyrium. It was everywhere. Crystals as tall as men, and nearly as thick as trees grew out of the walls, and stone. They lined the halls and rooms of the shrine. Berating himself for his callousness towards Hyacinth he pushed himself out the main doors and into the courtyard. Stalking past the corpse of the behemoth he thought he heard a templar gurgling closer to the gates. Reaching the lone man, he could see the strained breathing as the man’s breast plate jarred up and door at his attempts for air. “Knight… Commander….” He gasped. Not trusting the man, he kicked the blade away from his reach before getting closer, “do I know you?” Cullen asked as he half knelt by the man’s head.  
Coughing the templar spat a wad of blood to the side, away from Cullen, “I was there the day you defied Meredith at the Gallows. Stuck with the witch Hawke. You are a traitor to the Order.” Trying to rise the man collapsed under himself.  
Snarling Cullen stood up straight, “Meredith was insane. Hawke helped us, saved many from abominations, saved many good mages from tyrant templars. It was the right thing to do, the way the Order should have done it!”  
Laughing the man choked again before uttering his last few words, “mage lover. Weak… filthy… mage fucker…” before the man could continue his cursed sputters Cullen growled and began stomping the templars face in.   
Hyacinth heard the commotion outside and reach the doors in time to see Cullen turn the dead templars head into a bloody pulp. Gasping she threw her hand over her mouth.  
Shaking his head from the blood rage Cullen looked back to see Hyacinth standing at the threshold of the doorway, her hands clamped tight over her mouth. Looking down he realized what he’d done. Unable to come up with words he shuffled off to where Solas had bound the horses.   
“Don’t do it Bumbles,” Varric came out and poked her side. “He’s got a foul temper on a good day, he’s fight the red shit now.”  
Solas nodded, “it will take a few hours to wear off. I do not believe the effects are permanent.”  
Sighing Hyacinth put away her spirit blade hilt, “it isn’t the red lyrium that is permanent. Come, let’s go make camp somewhere far enough away from here.” Holding a hand up she pleaded, “give me a moment with him.”  
Hastily jogging towards the horses, Hyacinth saw Cullen bracing himself against an old oak. His body was shaking as he heaved. She quickly closed the distance between them, reaching to help. “Don’t touch me,” he tore himself from her, “don’t.” Backing up she wanted to say something, do something but instead the small group came over. Cullen mounted his horse. Not mentioning anything they all silently clambered onto their own steads and began trotting off. Bull took the lead, picking out a camp. Setting up on a flat stretch of forest by a large stream they began the usual work. Varric paced off without a sound to snare dinner, Solas helped set up tents with Hyacinth. Cullen began collecting and preparing wood for the fire and Bull began setting up the cooking equipment and fire pit.   
As night fell they dinned in silence. No one sure of what to say, or how to say it. Maddox’s death was not something anyone saw coming or even believed would happen. Who would willingly kill themselves? Especially with a large dose of toxic herbs. His death must have been painful, and yet the tranquil mage, did not complain. He didn’t even seem to care about his own end. It was that brutal reality that haunted Hyacinth as she ate. There was something monstrous about tranquility. She had seen them before, their emotionless voices, empty stares always made her cringe. Now, it was something haunting. Something strange and terrifying. She could tell it affected Cullen, tell it was upsetting to him as well. Deciding to speak to him later she offered her quiet good nights and turned in.  
Laying in her bedroll she found it difficult to sleep. Maddox’s face in his final moments tormented her when she shut her eyes. Groaning she rolled to her stomach. Trying again to get comfortable she couldn’t seem to lay in a spot that felt right. Giving up she got up and lit a small candle. Sitting by the light she decided to try to write in her journal.  
Cullen paced about the camp, unable to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he was haunted by Maddox, the final words of the dying templar taunting him, Samson and his anger induced gory pulp mess at the end of his boot. In silence, he had spent nearly an hour scrubbing and scouring his boots by the edge of the forest. A small bowl filled with water, rippled a deep crimson as he cleared every last speck free from the leather. Looking out over the stream he sighed heavily. Maddox had been his fault, his responsibility. Sitting down upon a large rock he hung his head. Maddox was a bright, vibrant man when he arrived at the Circle in Kirkwall. Always a friendly word and a kind jester. Sinking his hands into her hair he tried to reason it, tried to see what he could have done differently. If he’d only opened his eyes to the madness sooner, what could he have done to stop it all. Could he have stopped it all? Gripping his hair tightly in his fists till his knuckles turned white he clenched his eyes tightly. Maddox’s pale face and sunken eyes haunted him as he calmly drew his last breath. Breath he should have still been taking, safely, without the rite of Tranquility altering his course to this point.   
Spiraling down he thought of all the times he’d smiled and obeyed. How many more, like Maddox suffered because he dared to be normal? Dared to try to find love. “Love letters,” the words tasted bitter as he spat them at the wind. Samson’s expulsion, Haven’s loss, Corypheus’s abuse of the Order, Maddox’s death, all because of one event. Blaming himself he kicked at the dirt beneath his boot. He had to make it right, there was too much blood on his hands.   
“You know Curly, you can’t blame yourself for everything.” Varric quietly sat beside him on the rock, “Corypheus was my fault after all.”  
Letting a long huff out Cullen sat up slightly, “Corypheus was the Grey Warden’s fault. If you hadn’t taken Hawke to deal with it, she would be dead same with her brother Carver.”  
Chuckling Varric sighed, “I suppose so, or he’d run out of Carta dwarves and start sending nugs.”  
Both let a weak laugh pass over them before Cullen smirked, “now there’s an idea, a nug army. No one would see that coming.”  
Patting Cullen on the back he nodded, “don’t beat yourself up Curly. Meredith would have been just as menacing and dangerous without you. Maddox would still be tranquil, Samson still out there leading Corypheus’s blasted army and we’d all still be sitting here griping about the trek home.” Standing Varric tossed a rock into the stream, the water rippled and wobbled as the rock sank to the bottom. “We’ll get him, make it right. Bumbles has a good head on her shoulders. Kid’s come a long way since hurling her guts out at the Breach.”  
Chuckling Cullen nodded, he was right. “She has blossomed into a strong woman.” He couldn’t help the soft sigh that passed his lips before Varric left.  
“She’s special to you. Haven’t seen you smile, ever I think Curly,” chuckling he smiled. “Hang on to that, its good for your health,” shaking his head he looked back at the stream. Calm, still water reflected the blanket of stars covering the night sky, a waning moon casting its gentle light over them, “sometimes things need a space to think and to rest. Like this dwarf.” Patting him one last time on the shoulder Varric gave him a soft squeeze, “get some rest. Maker knows you’ll be driving us home as fast as you started.”  
“Perhaps we could take a less intense pace back to Skyhold,” Cullen chuckled standing up and brushing his pants free from the loose dirt of the rock. Looking over the stream he felt Varric’s words settle over him. Walking back towards his tent he paused, seeing a faint flickering light in Hyacinth’s tent he knew what he wanted to do. Reaching into his own tent, he pulled out his bedroll and pillow. Quietly creeping he eased her tent flap back and silently as he could muster, laid his bedroll beside hers.   
Hyacinth with brows furrowed tightly together, squinting in the low light focused on the writing before her. Finally, content with the last few words she blew carefully upon the ink. Assured it was dry she closed her book, and rubbed her eyes. “Hyacinth…” his low voice startled her and she let out a stifled shriek as his hand passed over her mouth, “shhh, don’t scream please. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Nodding back to him she took in a few deep breaths as he removed his hand from her lips. “I didn’t hear you enter, are you alright?” Wrapping her arms around him she hauled herself tightly against his body. Rubbing her back, he sighed, “I apologize for my behaviour at the temple and afterwards. It was unfair of me and unkind.”  
Passing her hands over his temples she sent a wave of soothing magics through him, “it was not entirely your fault. Being so close to that horrid red lyrium, it makes you do things,” closing her eyes she focused on his aches. Focused on easing the throbbing headache he left unmentioned. “You don’t need to apologize. If the Maker is with us, you should be nearly through with your symptoms.”  
Taking her hands softly in his, he pulled them down into his lap, “I have suffered yes, but I earned each moment I suffered. I did nothing to stop Maddox’s sentence, a sentence that lead to his death. I did nothing to aid Samson and he has directly assaulted the deepest values of the Order.” Drawing in a ragged breath he licked his lips, trying to focus his thoughts, “today, that was because I did nothing. I shall bare the weight of Maddox’s death for the rest of my days. I must complete this, must make this right. In my rush to do so I regret my actions towards you. I was unduly harsh and even if the presence of red lyrium affected me, I should have had more control over myself. I swear to you, it will never happen again.”   
Tightly gripping his hands in hers she smiled, “you do the work of nearly ten men, daily. You struggled with your symptoms and not once neglected your sworn duty or even complain. We came here in half the time it would have taken. If Varric’s constant complaints didn’t drive you into a fury then I blame the red lyrium for your shortness. You need to give yourself a small break. If only for your sanity.” Kissing his cheek, she pulled him down into the bedroll, “come, sleep is what you need.”  
“I need you,” he smiled holding her tightly to his chest.  
Morning was uneventful as they dressed, ate and dismantled camp. Marching at a much slower pace Hyacinth took the time to gather elfroot, embrium and some other herbs along the route. Using the dried hide of a ram she ended up with a huge haul by the time they returned to Skyhold. Having already prepared the herbs for the healers they greeted her with warm smiled as they took the bag.   
Everyone was tired and without much word to each other they went about their separate ways. Each knowing their time back as Skyhold may not be extended passed a few days. There were still many tasks ahead of them and returning in the early afternoon hours, they relished the chance to be back.  
Hyacinth wearily made the trek to her quarters, only stopping briefly to turn Maddox’s tools over to Dagna. The dwarf bounced excitedly as she scanned the tools, “these are extraordinary! With a little time, I can definitely craft you what you need. I’ll come see you, don’t worry about coming to see me. Now out, out! I have experiments to run and tests to conduct!”   
Climbing the steps to her room, Hyacinth half dragged herself to the top. Tossing her sack by the table she went about making a little fire for herself in the hearth before she turned to the stack of papers upon her desk. Towering nearly as tall as herself, the papers were weighted down with a wooden halla. Groaning she plunked down at her desk, this would be a long evening to say the least. Catching the sound of the latch to her chamber she peered around the papers as she carefully began sorting what letter was from whom. “Ma’am, is there anything we can do for you?’ Servants came up to the room and stood before her desk, awaiting their instructions.  
“Yes, I require a bath and food. My dirty linens will be prepared for you to take once I have washed. Thank you,” Hyacinth buried her nose into the papers before her. Still no word on Corypheus or his people. Still no idea where he would strike next or his next plan. Grumbling she tossed the letter into the fire place, watching the flames lick at the edges she sighed. Her body ached terribly from the journey. A Circle mage was neither trained nor prepared in riding a horse, let alone being saddled on one for nearly two weeks. Grunting she rubbed at her back, “Maker, a good soak should limber everything up.”  
Cullen yawned and stretched as he went over the last of the letters upon his desk. Several positive reviews of Blackwall’s instructions and surprisingly few complaints. Going over the rosters he was pleased to see Blackwall had taken some time to make a few up. Reading them over he felt comfortable in their composure and decided not to alter them. Leaning back in his chair he closed his eyes. In all his time in Kirkwall he had never truly felt like it was home, like he had a home. Now, here he finally felt it. Smiling to himself he was glad the stack of papers were cleared down, glad the servants had come to take his dirty clothes and bedroll. Standing up from his desk he began striping down his armor. Reaching in the bottom drawer of his desk he pulled out some oils and a clothe. Taking his time, he began cleaning his armor. Polishing the breast plate till it shined he set the pieces upon the dummy as he finished them. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, he stretched his tired limbs. Peering out the window. Night was beginning to settle into the valley and soon Skyhold would be bathed in darkness. Stretching again he yawned. Blowing out the candles upon his desk he went to climb the ladder to his loft. Pausing with his foot on the second rung, his heart tugged at him.   
Hyacinth finished brushing her hair and braided it back. With all the travel, her hair was longer yet still. So much so it irritated her when she slept, often waking to be tangled about the face. Placing a couple fat logs in the hearth she warmed her hands over the crackling fire.   
“Mind if I join you?” his baritone voice caught her off guard as he crested the stair case and came towards her. “You said at any hour, I could come to you.”  
“I did,” she smiled and sighed as he wrapped his warm arms around her. “Is everything alright? Are you in pain?” worried she reached behind her to touch his face.  
“Not any pain that can be fixed with magics or potions,” sighing he drew in her scent. Fresh, floral soaps, and a hint of her usual tea. Holding her tightly he felt his body relax, “I need you.”  
She melted into his arms, soft and tender, “thank you.” Feeling his chin rest, feather light upon her shoulder she purred, “I told you, I was here for you any time you needed me.”  
Humming he closed his eyes and lost himself in the feel of her body, her warmth radiated against his chest and it helped ground him. Since arriving back from their journey to the Shrine he had gotten straight to work. Not allowing himself to think of the things he had experienced along the way. Shortly after they had arrived back, a messenger brought him a letter. Unsealed with the simple words, “from the Inquisitor. She apologizes that she cannot deliver it personally but she requests you take a moment to read it over.” He’d dropped everything and read the letter. Personally, addressed to him from Samson. It had been difficult to read the words. Half taunting him, half blaming him for what had happened. It took the rest of the evening to finish it, even though he usually sped through letters. Emotions welled up. Anger, resentment, self-loathing, self-blame. Finishing his other duties, he had cleared it from his mind. Until he decided upon sleep. All the pushed back concerns flooded him again. He’d come to her for healing, but not the kind that flowed through her magic. “May I stay,” he half whispered afraid of the answer.  
Creating a soft gap between them she rolled in his arms to face him, eyes wide and loving, “of course. You may stay as long as you wish to.” Reaching up to touch his cheek she sighed at the warmth, the realness of him. It was the first time she stopped feeling lonely. Stopped feeling like the niave child in the room. “Did you want to stay the night?”  
Grinning widely, he took her chin affectionately in his finger tips, “I wish to stay longer, if you want me to.”  
Blinking she was unsure how to answer. It had never occurred to her that this may last more than a fleeting few months at best. Circle relationships were never solid. Too much fear. “I… I don’t know how to make that happen. It’s… I’m…”  
Cullen sighed and fumbled with his neck, “Maker, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push, I mean…”  
“I care for you, love you Cullen. I do. I just don’t know anything about relationships. In the Circle, its all hidden and quiet. Templars allowed us to have time together but if they thought we were becoming too close they would break things up. I remember seeing mages sent to other Circles, some being taken to the basement….” Cringing she looked at the fire, “I’m afraid.”  
Reaching for her he held her tightly to his chest, “no, that won’t happen here. You are free to love, to give, to be. Most importantly with me. Never hide yourself. I love you Hyacinth Trevelyan. And I would walk through the Void to be with you. Do you understand that?”  
Tears trailed down her cheeks as she choked on the words. Struggling to pass the air through her lungs her voice squeaked and all she could do was nod. Wrapping her arms around his waist she buried her head into his shoulder and wept.   
Lifting her up he carried her to the edge of her small couch by her bed. Sitting with her in his lap they sat in silence as she sobbed openly. After some time, the tears stopped and she righted herself, “are you sure you want me? There are so many stronger, better women than I here in Skyhold who could love you without fear. Be more for you than I can.” Wiping the tears from her cheeks she sniffled loudly. She loved him, truly believed she did, but was love enough? Never having seen love, true love outside of a book in the library she was concerned that she wasn’t capable of it. Wasn’t strong enough for it. There was so much in life she knew so little about, she couldn’t bare hurting him.  
“No,” he said firmly and calmly, “you have loved me, tended to me, and eased me back to life. I do not know what the future will hold. If we survive to the end it will be by the Maker’s hand. But I know this, I am willing to teach you. To do all I can to make this work. Only if you wish the same.” Swallowing hard he was praying. Praying she too wanted to make this work. They both knew the life of the Circle, but he knew freedom. Even if it was a twisted freedom, he had it. She had been a bird trapped in a cage for so long he could understand her fear of flying.  
Smiling she leaned into his chest, her ear hovering over his heart. Beating steady and strong in his chest she breathed in a deep lung full of air. Calming herself she let it out slowly. “Then, I want to try.”  
Kissing her forehead, he felt light as air. As if the weight of all his burdens were lifted by the soft utterance of those words. “Then let’s try together.”


	20. Spaces Between the Rows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some NSFW near the end. Heads up

Hyacinth enjoyed the quiet evening with Cullen. Sitting up and talking until both were too tired to utter another word. Curling into each other they slipped quickly into the Fade. Come morning, life continued its chaotic dance. Letters upon both their desks piled up and Hyacinth was called away to head to the Storm Coast with Bull and his Chargers. Cullen loathed that she had to leave and enter such dangerous situations. She would be gone for a little over a week if the Chargers moved quickly. Working at the letters upon his desk he focused again on the words from Samson.   
Hyacinth let out a long chorus of giggles as Krem rolled his eyes. Bull was telling wonderful stories of one of their contracts. “A giant spider,” she shuttered, “I hate spiders.” Pacing down the shale lined dirt path she wiped at the sweat above her brow. They were nearly at the location of Bull’s contact from the Qunari. “Just over this way,” Bull guided them over a hill and towards a peak overlooking to coastline.   
“Ugh, the sea. I feel queasy just looking at it,” Dorian groan as he became green around the gills.   
Chuckling Bull shook his head. Pushing through a soft hedge line he grinned widely at an elven male standing before a well-hidden tent, “Gatt!” He raised his arms in excitement as he rushed forward, gripping the man’s hand in a firm shake.  
“Hissrad, pleasure to work with you again.” Looking around Bull he nodded to Hyacinth, “greetings Inquisitor Trevelyan, we’ve heard much of the good work you’ve been doing.”  
Hyacinth blushed softly, “thank you. I look forward to aiding in this quest.” Looking over to Bull she thought she caught him swallow strangely. “How can the Inquisition provide aid in this situation?”  
Standing with his hands firmly linked behind his back, Gatt nodded, “the Venatori are shipping red lyrium up the Storm Coast. We are concerned it may be heading further inland and the big guys on top aren’t too happy about it. It’s got them pretty shook up.”   
Bull nodded, “they don’t like the regular stuff this shit is ten times worse.”  
“Right,” Gatt nodded. Pointing over to a location overlooking the sea he motioned towards Bull, “we’ll need to hit both targets at once. There is an entrenched camp over there, probably thick with mages to secure the cargo route.” Turning he pointed to an area across from the first, cresting the top of a ridge overlooking a beach, “same over there. In order to signal the dreadnought to take down the smuggler vessel, we’ll need to take out those targets.”   
Bull scoffed hard, half snorting as he crooked his horns, “ah, I don’t like it Gatt. Too many surprises.”  
“What?” Hyacinth mutter aloud as she looked over at both locations.  
“Give me a moment to speak to my men. We’ll hit the targets when we’re ready,” Bull turned back to Hyacinth and waved their group over, away from Gatt’s prying ears. “Alright men, you are going to take the beach overpass. Should be a standard vint company, single or double mage. You know the roles, take out the mages first. Once you’ve covered your team, send up the signal flare,” passing Krem a package he nodded, “place it in their camp fire, it’ll do the work.” Patting Krem on the shoulder he flicked his chin over to Hyacinth, “give me a second to go over some stuff with the Inquisitor, then we’ll set off. You’re in charge on this one Krem. Don’t let it go to your head.”  
“Yes, Chief!” Krem barked as he took a step back with the other chargers.   
Taking a cautious step forward Bull lowered his voice, “sorry, didn’t need them to see anything was wrong. To your question,” grunting he cracked his neck, “this has issues all over it. Too many angles where shit could backfire. Don’t hit the mages fast enough, dreadnought sinks. Hit them too early they call off their smuggler ship. They have re-enforcements somewhere, dreadnought sinks and we’re dead. Too much crap to go wrong.”  
“That’s why you gave your men the softer target,” Blackwall nodded, “we take the hit, you save your boys.”  
“No,” Bull shook his head, “we can handle the hit. Two mages, plus heavy hitters. Shit goes sideways we have a healer. We’ll manage. But boss,” he turned to Hyacinth a look of concern just nipping at the edge of his lips, “I don’t know about this. It don’t feel right.”  
Nodding Hyacinth got the jist of his remarks, “we’ll make sure your men get out. Don’t worry, they’ll be alright.”  
“Thanks boss,” looking over at Gatt he nodded, “we’re good to go.”  
Gatt chuckled pulling his sword from his belt he nodded, “good, we have to hit both camps at the same time for this to work. Are your men prepared?”  
“We’re ready chief, see you on the other side,” Krem nodded as they began their trek towards the beach overhang.   
Gatt led them towards their target, no one daring to utter a sound as they stalked through the wet grass. Dorian groaned once as they cleared the first check point. Gatt snapping the neck of an unsuspecting Venatori zealot while Bull’s ax levied the killing blow upon the lone Venatori gladiator.   
“You gave your men the easier target,” Gatt hissed as the crept through the check point towards the cusp of the hill top.  
“Just means a little more wet work for us, more fun.” His usual casual tone had taken on a slight edge as he plodded along beside Hyacinth.  
“Shh,” Gatt put his finger to his mouth, “two mages, three zealots and a couple gladiators. Take out the…”  
“Yeah yeah, I know mages first,” Bull spun the handle of his ax in his hand. “Varric think you can nail the guy on the far side? While Dorian gets the closer one?”  
Chuckling Varric flipped open an iron sight on Bianca, “oh ya, piece of cake.”  
“On the count of three. One, two,” the subtle twang of Bianca barely ruffled the air as the bolt found its target, true and clean a bolt through his heart. Slumping to the ground the next mage screamed in fear as he hurled himself off the edge of the cliff. His body crunching on impact from the high fall.   
“A little much?” Blackwall yelled over to Dorian as he slammed his shield into the zealot before him.  
“No such thing,” Dorian grinned as he cast out. The zealot before him twitch and contorted before he turned and ran back into the group of gladiators, “this might be too much.” Flicking his fingers, the man howled out then promptly exploded. Fragmented bone shrapnel flew into the bodies of the near by Venatori. Bull and Gatt rushed in to finish the wounded pair off. Chuckling he leaned upon his staff, “I do enjoy that.”  
Rolling his eyes, Bull looked over the camp, “we’re clear, Gatt. Send up the signal.”  
Hyacinth sauntered lazily over to Bull. Watching his movements, she could sense his tension. He was focused on the other beach, his only good eye trained on where the Chargers stood upon the edge of a cliff. “They must have already sent up their signal.” Letting a half grin crock the corner of his lips, Hyacinth reached up and patted his arm. Standing on his blind side she wasn’t sure he knew who it was, until his hand caught hers and he gave it a soft squeeze.   
Gatt chuckled, “here it comes.” Deep crimson sails bearing the mark of the Venatori slowly rocked into sight, coming close to the shore before turning to pass the Charger’s position. Nearly in silence the Qunari dreadnaught crawled up behind it. “Won’t be long now,” Gatt relaxed, crossing his arms across his chest as the wind softly whipped the air up about them.   
“I missed seeing this,” Bull nodded as the dreadnaught launched a single volley that sunk the smuggler vessel immediately on impact. Bull’s face fell almost immediately as the smuggler ships sails sunk beneath the waves. “Damnit,” his voice was a pained gasp upon the breeze.   
Hyacinth looked about, “what’s wrong?” Bull pointed over to the beach, a group of nearly two dozen soldiers followed by a half dozen more mages were storming the sandy turf towards Bull’s Chargers. Shaking her head, she clutched at his arm, “get them out of there! They can’t hold out against that many!’  
“NO!” Gatt yelled rushing up to Bull, “if you call them off the dreadnaught sinks. They need to hold that position Bull. The alliance with our people and the Inquisition is dependant upon this!”  
Hyacinth shook her head, “no! It’s not worth it! Bull…” she tugged again at his arm seeing him torn between his life under the Qun and his men. “Bull!” she screamed at him as the soldiers began climbing the ridge.  
Gatt stood before him, pacing back and forth, “Hissrad those men have to hold that point! If you do this you’d be declaring yourself Tal-Vashoth! Hissrad!”  
“I’m sorry Gatt,” Bull blew the horn quickly several times, before letting his arm fall, fist clenched tightly about the handle of the horn. Focusing his eye on the Chargers he breathed a sigh of relief as the rushed away from their location, into the tree line and out of view   
“Once the ship sinks we can….” Hyacinth paused as he shook his head.  
“Qunari dreadnaughts don’t sink,” Bull’s voice was hollow as the half dozen mages on the beach reached the range they needed to launch their spells. Fire rained down upon the vessel as it bobbed up and down on the choppy water. “Won’t be long now.” He groaned as they all watched in horror as the boat burst, and explosions reducing the ship to ash and tinder.   
“I…” she looked out as the mages plodded off to meet up with the troop of zealots.   
Gatt was fuming, the tips of his pointed ears nearly on fire, he paced back and forth, hands reacting to his words, “Hissrad. Why? How could you do this? For what? For them!” His finger pointed towards Hyacinth as she stood in shock. “With all the information, you’ve been passing the Inquisition lately, many have been saying you had left us already. Betrayed us. I stood up for you, said you’d never turn your back on the Qun.” Shaking his head, he spat at the ground, “I will contact you soon, Inquisitor.” Turning to look at Bull one more time he spat the words at him, “Tal-Vashoth.”  
“His name is Iron Bull,” Hyacinth put herself between Gatt and Bull. Her slight frame, standing as firm as she could against the enraged glare of Gatt.  
“I suppose it is,” he shook his head and sighed, “go, get out of here.” Waving his hand, he turned back to look out over the storming sea.   
“Come on, let’s get back to my boys,” Bull sighed and turned his back, heading off to their campsite.   
In silence, the group traipsed through the spars trees, and slipped over the smooth rocks. Rain descended upon them in heavy sheets. Hyacinth shuttered and tried to keep up with the quick pace as they rushed towards the safety and dry comfort of the camp. Inquisition scouts had set up a formidable encampment a safe distance from their meeting with Gatt. Not wanting to sit around outside as the wind blew violently and the rain thrummed against the tarps. Hyacinth dipped into her tent. Discarding her soggy wet clothes, she wrapped her bedroll around herself tightly. Shivering she sniffled. Sighing she missed the quick shuffling sound outside, “boss,” Bull’s voice was soft, “mind If I come in?” Hyacinth looked down, wrapping in her bedroll with nothing else on she felt unsure, but his voice tugged at her heart. “Come in,” she quickly tugged the bedroll tighter.   
Bull shook his horns off outside the tent before calmly stepping inside, mindful of the wetness. “I… I wanted to thank you, for earlier.” Sitting by the opening he drew in a haggard breath, “don’t know what I would have down on my own.”  
“I’m sorry I messed things up for you Bull,” she watched him fiddle with something in his hands, “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit by and watch them slaughter your men. Krem has been a dear friend to me when I visit the taverns at Skyhold.” She smiled when she saw Bull’s face brighten, “always a funny story. Always a smile and sarcastic snark. He’s a brave man, a good man. I couldn’t do it… even if it meant all of Par Vollen came down upon us. Maker forgive me, if that is foolish.”  
Bull sat puzzling the question, “under the Qun you are given your job, your life and you are told to be proud of it. To work your hardest to be the best in it. That your greatness will build on the greatness of the Qun.” His hands toyed with the small, fluffy pink object, “when I came here, on orders to see what this was all about. How your people were doing, what they were planning, I was to be undercover. I stopped being Hissrad and I became the Iron Bull, mercenary captain. Collecting these men and women, I got to know each of them. Their hopes, their dreams.” Petting the thing it came into view, a hand stitched nug doll. “I began caring about them. Something you don’t get under the Qun.”  
Hyacinth nibbled at her lip, turning the idea over in her head. She had read the book Josephine left for her. Explaining the Qunari and their strange ideals of their prophet, Koslun. His idea that each person contributed to the whole, but only in their designated roll. A few times she had spoken to Bull and she likened it to her life in the Circle, “when you know nothing else, then you have no way of understanding it. Like a bird in a cage. It doesn’t know how to fly, because it never knew it could.”  
Bull looked up over at her, his eye locking on her face, “maybe. I don’t know. I killed so many Tal-Vashoth. So many who turned their back and became mindless, blood thirty, bastards.”  
Hyacinth shook her head, and shuffled in her spot, “no. You aren’t Tal-Vashoth, you are Iron Fucking Bull, captain of the best damned mercenary band this side of the Waking Sea!” Punching down with her fist the puffing sound that came from the contact with her wrapped thigh made a comical punctuation to her powerful statement.   
Bull let out a chest full of hearty laughter before he nodded towards her, “thanks boss. Needed that.” Straightening up he was mindful of his horns and the low ceiling of the tent, “think the rains stopped. We’re breaking open a keg. Care to join us?” Putting his hand out he let out another ring of laughter, “once you’ve dressed of course. Clothing only becomes optional after you’ve downed a few mugs worth.”  
Cullen stretched and pawed at his eyes. Staring down the stack of papers upon his desk he stood up and gave his back a shove. Reveling in the loud and wondrous popping of his aching spine he sighed. It had been hours since he read the letter coming in from the Storm Coast. Their mission was; unknown. He had read the page over a half dozen times. Each time he was left scratching his head. Her letter was a jumbled mess of incoherent words. Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, he gazed out the window. Her letter had arrived a few days ago and nothing since then. He had returned her letter, part worried for her safety, part concerned for her state of mind. From what little he could make out something had taken place at the Storm Coast that rendered the potential alliance with the Qunari nation nearly impossible. Yet no missive had arrived bearing the seal of the Qunari. Gazing out over the bridge leading towards him he thought he spotted movement in the waning light of impending evening.   
Chuckling Hyacinth felt giddy as the ale warmed her through, “you’re right Krem, it is far better to travel with drink. I’ve never felt so warm,” sighing she stroked the horse’s mane, “and Chestnut is such a good horse. A wonderful horse. The finest horse in all of Fereldan.” As if amused and inspired by her pep talk the horse snorted happily.   
Blackwall let out a thunderous bark of laughter, “come to the tavern, this is too good a night to quietly slip off to your quarters.”  
“Alright, but you’re buying,” chuckling along the band of Chargers and her people cantered over the bridge and safely into the stables of Skyhold. Following Bull’s lead, an arm around him and around Blackwall she merrily sang along with the Chargers as they danced towards the tavern. Bursting through the doors, their band was the only souls in the room, “wonderful, we have the tavern to ourselves tonight!” Hyacinth raised her hands to the ceiling and did a little dance. “Cabot, my good man, keep the drinks flowing!”  
From his tower Cullen could hear the roars of laughter, and loud singing of the Chargers. Fumbling with his papers he wanted to join in on the revelry. Part of himself wondered if he would be welcome. Throwing caution to the wind he removed his cumbersome armor, donning something more casual, he looked himself over in the mirror. Taking the side steps along the battlement he trotted down to the tavern doors. Song and sweat, ale and laughter greeted him as he slipped in the door.   
“Commander, come drink!” Bull thrust a stein in his face, the foam sloshing about splattered across the floor, “tonight we drink to the Chargers!” Bull’s smile was as wide as his horns as he scooped Cullen up and bear hugged him, sending more foam and ale to the floor. Barely keeping his grip upon the earthenware mug he couldn’t help the sloppy grin crossing his lips. How could he when Bull’s own smile was so infectious. Getting swept along, deeper into the tavern the song and swell of the celebration washed over him. In his quickest recall, he couldn’t place ever having seen a scene quite like this. Stitches and Dalish were dancing upon the tables. Rocky swaying back and forth, his oversized mug spilling foaming brew this way and that. Grim, the quietest member of the group sat and clapped along as people danced and drank. Maryden’s weary face was bright as she played along to the Charger’s songs. Despite the hour she looked as if she was enjoying this moment of jocularity.   
“She’s happy. The choice was hard and she worries for Bull but she couldn’t do it. Not to them,” Cole’s voice scratched at the base of his skull, the spectre boy seemingly everywhere around him and no where. Trying to shake the feeling off Cole’s voice cracked through his mind again, “watch over her. She drinks to numb the pain, numb being real, being alive. It makes the hurt stop, but it causes hurt. She has drank plenty already, she needs tender eyes and an honest heart to look out for her this evening. You, she needs you.”  
Not wanting to startle anyone he looked around the room with his eyes. Unable to see the boy he knew he had already disappeared back into whatever corner of Skyhold he crept in. His message delivered and heard clearly, leaving no reason for him to be about. Casually making his way further into the room he saw them. Blackwall dancing with Hyacinth tightly in his arms. Both laughing and very pink about their cheeks. Biting back the twinges of jealousy, the overwhelming need to stake his claim for the room to see he focused on the words Cole had said. She needed someone with an honest heart. Unsure what that meant he calmly pushed his way through the crowd. Apologizing and taking a swig from his stein as Chargers stopped to raise their mug to the ‘finest Commander short of the Chief,’ Krem yelled over the ruckus.   
“Where are you off too Cullen? You haven’t even finished your first drink!” Bull grabbed him and wrapped a thick, druffalo of an arm about his shoulders, “we are celebrating the Chargers tonight! To making it back without a scratch.”  
“Speak for yourself Chief,” Krem yelled over the din, “got singed a bit in my armor. Didn’t take out that first mage fast enough, blighted bastard.”  
Bull roared with laughter as he jiggled Cullen about, “guess our good Commander here will need to run you through some of his templar drills. Next time you’ll be able to dodge the fireball.”  
Trying not to panic Cullen nodded, “yes. Getting singed by a fireball hurts.” Krem and Bull both carried on their merry belly laughter as Cullen slowly slipped from Bull’s grasp. Turning to where he saw Hyacinth and Blackwall, he noticed they were no longer there. Scanning the room quickly he caught sight of them off in the shadows near the back door exit of the tavern. Once again attempting to reach them, he slipped by a few Chargers and the scowling red face of Cabot. Grumbling about the hour and the amount of booze the crew were rapidly consuming.   
Locking his eyes on Blackwall he noticed the once smiling, happy face had turned to a more sour, sullen look as he leaned in close to speak with Hyacinth. Her face too no longer held its usual cheerful look. Instead her brows were knit tightly together as she seemed to be pleading with Blackwall. He tugged his arm from her hands and turned to go. Again, she reached for him, grasping blindly at the tails of his thick overcoat. Hanging his head, Blackwall’s shoulders shuttered. Reaching back, he wrenched himself free of her grasp and calmly slipped into the pitch blackness of the moon less night outside the tavern.   
Desperate now to reach her he watched as she swiped a bottle of unknown liquid off the tray Cabot carried by her and began downing it. ‘Numb the pain,’ Cole’s words echoed through his head as he came around to her, “Hyacinth,” he took the bottle from her hand and carefully wrapped an arm around her hips.  
“Oh, hello you,” her eyes were half shut and the flush restored to her cheeks and chest. Licking the few drips of honeyed ale off her lips she slid her hand up him arm, “I missed you. What are you doing in the tavern? I didn’t know you came to the tavern.” Letting out a barking laugh she nearly doubled over.   
“You’re drunk,” he frowned as she righted herself. “Perhaps we should get you back to your quarters.”  
Humming, she pressed her lips together, biting into her bottom lip, “oh yes, take me to my room. I’d like that,” pawing at his arm she pressed into him, half pinning him against the stone and plaster wall.   
Feeling the heat rise off her body, the curve of her against him, made him dizzy. If it wasn’t for her drunken state he questioned if he could stop himself. Placing his hands on her hips he gave his head a slow shake, “you are intoxicated, and I would never presume to take advantage of you. Furthermore, anything we do together, I want you to remember.” He hadn’t meant the last words to slip so sweetly from his lips, the rumbling in his chest clearly affected her as her grin spread widely across her luscious lips.   
“It wouldn’t be taking advantage,” she drew closer to him, pressing up on her tippy toes to lay a wanting kiss upon his unsuspecting lips.  
He groaned. Sweet honey and her own unique taste flooded his senses. Closing his eyes his body reacted, tilting his head down towards her. Helping ease her off her tippy toes, and into a comfortable embrace. Slanting his lips, he delved into her. Tongues dancing together, nearly in rhythm to the lute Maryden furiously plucked at. Sliding his hands over her firm ass he felt his rationality slipping away. She was intoxicating, more potent than any ale Cabot could shelve. Her lips parted, a loud moan breaking into his. The room was swirling and tumbling away as his only focus became her. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own as he pulled her leg up over his hip as his over hand slid up her back and coiled in her loose hair. Switching them about in a swift movement he pinned her against the darkened corner of the bar.   
“That a boy Cullen!” roared Bull as the room stopped to give the couple cheers, whistles and hoots of encouragement.   
Cullen broke from their embrace, his face nearly as red as the bottle of wine upon the shelve above him, “I…uh… well…” Rubbing at the back of his neck, he maintained a soft grip around her waist.  
Grabbing them both Krem pushed them towards the door, “get her to bed Commander. She’s had enough and you might want to move before the chief gets ideas. He’s in a sharing mood tonight.” Krem shook his head and sighed, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t wreck anything, Commander.”  
Hyacinth giggled, “sharing? What kind of sharing?”  
Seeing Krem’s face bloom he turned to face Cullen, “she’s in no shape for anything. Best to go. I got the big lug, Dorian will be pissed if he’s laying in a pile of… go.” Krem rushed them out the door and firmly shut it behind them.   
Taking Hyacinth about the waist he led her up the steps and through the main doors of the Keep, all while she babbled about the near constant rain by the coast. Having suffered soggy clothes, tents and bedding until they moved further inland, towards Skyhold. It had been the main reason they stalled a day in their journey. It took nearly that long for everything to dry out. Passing through the main hall, they tittered towards her room, “stay with me? It is cold and I do not wish to be alone.”  
Cullen bit back the heated response he wanted to give, ‘would you have offered as much to Blackwall? Perhaps Bull if I had not arrived?’ Instead he nodded, “as my lady wishes.” Helping her climb the steps he eased her onto her couch. Tending first to the hearth he got a warm fire going. “This should keep us warm through the night,” he sighed. He knew how much she loved the heat. Standing from the floor he dusted off his hands, “Hyacinth….”   
He hadn’t heard her change, she never made a sound. Discarded were her riding worn leather leggings, her usual blouse. Now she stood in a near see through nightgown. A gown that barely covered the tops of her thighs, two laces holding it up at her shoulders. “Ready for bed,” she pawed at the fluttering material near the plunge of her breasts.   
Feeling his pants grow tighter he cleared his throat, “Hyacinth…”  
“Hush,” she swayed her hips as she walked towards him. Taking his hand, she walked him backwards towards the bed. Tugging him down onto herself her voice took on a sultry tone as she hooked her legs over his hips, “I want you. Cullen, I need you.”  
Struggling to keep himself composed he held himself above her, “Hyacinth, I want to, I do. Maker forgive me for the terrible thoughts running through my mind, but you aren’t in the right state of….” His attempts to sway her were silenced when her hungry mouth caught his. Moaning long and low against her lips he was drowning in her.   
Together they crawled up the bed towards the plush velvety mountain of pillows. Sighs and gasps of breath broke the cool silence of the bedroom, as the fire crackled away it’s flames licking around the bulbous cluster of logs in the hearth. Tugging the shirt up and over Cullen’s head he felt her hands steady. His skin sang as her heated hands scoured his bare chest and back. Breaking their tight dance, he struggled with the ties to his pants, finding his own hands trembling as he wriggled and kicked his pants away. Pressing his forehead against the pillow he squirmed out of his smalls.   
“I love you,” her soft angelic voice barely a whisper caressed his ear, as her lips skimmed across the skin of his lobe, “I want this, I want you.”   
Feeling her shift underneath him, the fabric of her nightgown fluttered over his shoulder as it slid down his back and off the edge of the bed. Burning, stiffened peaks pressed against his chest, as he naturally settled between her open legs. His last ounce of resistance shattered as she teased his twitching tip with her slick entrance. Feather light, she brushed herself against him and he gasped loudly at the burst of sensation flooding his body. There was no room for rational thought left in his mind as she assaulted his senses. The ghost of her warmth gracing him, her hands tracing along worn and aching muscles, lips upon his neck, and chest as she sighed into him. Overloading his mind, his body. Giving in he slowly pressed into her. Enjoying the surge of energy pass through his core, he gradually slid himself to his hilt within her.   
She was gasping, writhing under him. Seeking more. More friction, more attention, more of him against her skin. “Please,” begging him, her need clear and strong as she bucked her hips several times.   
In no hurry to finish he lazily rolled his hips into her, savouring each sinful mewl and gasping keen from her, fueling his thirst. Leaning down into her he lathed open mouth kisses along her neck, and shoulder. Giving playful nips here and there, listening for the gasps and muffled cries teaching him with every slip of his talented tongue. Mapping every erotic patch along her body he worked, in the same leisurely pass as he bucked his hips, pressing deep inside of her before receding back and delving in again.   
If there weren’t important business to attend to in the morning, he would worship her all night. Bringing her to heights of pleasure she couldn’t even hope to dream of. Catching a taut blushed tip in his lips, he watched her as he kissed, sucked, licked, and nibbled upon the delicate peak.   
Her face was flush as beads of sweat gathered at her hairline, her breath rapid as she began uttering in cohesively. His hands refused to remain idle as he braced himself upon his elbows. Leveraging his weight to one side his free hand descended her form. Tracing the edge of her breasts, the sway of her hips, the valley leading between her legs. Inching down towards where they were joined he encircled her pearl. Earning himself several curses as her back arched up towards him. Letting a rumbling growl pass his lips he felt her begin to tense around him. His name echoed through the room, as the logs in the hearth snapped and popped. Several more fervent thrusts and before she could utter a sound he felt her walls crush in around him. Squeezing as he continued to pump into her. Leaning back upon his heals he gripped her hips tightly. Losing all sense of rhythm, he raced towards his end, her screams of pleasure drove him fast, harder as his euphoria built to a blinding point. With one final rut, he hilted himself as deeply inside her as he could get. Toes curling, holding her to him, letting a roar rip through his chest as he felt himself tip over the edge. Time frozen if only for the slightest of moments as his head spun and his vision blurred. Fighting the sudden loss of strength, he tried not to collapse atop of her. Struggled to catch his breath as she puled him safely into her arms.   
“Cullen,” her voice was raspy, and her throat dry as she tried to thank him.  
Pulling the blankets up over them Cullen ran his finger tips down her arm until he could lace his fingers in hers. “Thank you,” he smiled bringing her fingers to his lips and giving each one a tender kiss.   
Yawning heavily, Hyacinth smiled, “you are so very welcome.” Settling into the bed, she cradled his head upon her chest, “sleep now,” she sighed. “Time for some sleep.” Unable to fend off her heavy lids she nodded off.   
Blinking she rolled over, pulling the blankets up over her head. Rubbing at the throbbing in her temples she cast her curative spells and sighed heavily. Reaching beside her she felt for him. Frowning heavily, she tossed the blankets back and sat up, “Cullen…” her voice was raspy as she scanned the sun lit room. He was no where to be found. Groaning she swung her legs over the bed, a bath had been drawn for her and before she got started she knew she needed to wash.  
“Commander, I am here to inform the Inquisition that the Qunari will not be joining in an alliance together.” Gatt crossed his arms across his chest as he glared over at Iron Bull.  
“You here to kill me too, Gatt?” Bull matched Gatt’s stance, staring down at him intently.  
“No. The Qunari have already lost one man, they were in no rush to lose two. Take care Bull,” Gatt nodded, relaxed and walked off towards his horse awaiting him at the gates.   
Cullen snorted as he shook his head, “what happened out there, Bull?”  
Taking a look around, Bull motioned Cullen to walk with him, “I sent a report in to Red, haven’t read it yet?”  
Following him up the stone steps towards the palisades, Cullen nodded, “I read the report and I stand by the Inquisitor’s choice.”  
Chuckling Bull pushed through the doors of the broken tower, “glad to hear it, she values your opinion.” Bull halted just past the door, two men dressed in Inquisition armor paced towards them. Bull lowered his stance, eye trained on the men.  
Passing through the doorway Cullen looked up just in time to see the two men lunge at Bull, “Bull!” Cullen shouted, reaching for his blade.  
“I got this,” Bull grunted slugging the man closest to him, knocking him to the ground. Metal scraping against the edge of the sheath rung through the air as the other man shouted, “ebost issala, Tal-Vashoth!”   
Cullen drew his blade too late as the dagger flew through the air and sunk into Bull’s shoulder. Cursing himself he raced forward, slashing at the man getting to his knees. Metal clanging against metal he met the man’s blade. All while Bull wrenched the dagger from his shoulder and tossed it into the chest of the second man.   
“Ya, ya my soul is dust,” he lifted the man up over his head and threw him over the battlement walls, “but yours is scattered all over the ground so…” grunting he gripped at the gaping wound.  
Cullen batted away the blade and drove the tip of his sword home, “Maker take you!” he spat as he twisted it deeper.   
Bull reached over, seized the man up and tossed him over edge. Blood dripped upon the stone as he shook his head, eye clenched tight in pain.   
Cullen sheathed his blade and dug through his pocket, “Bull, what was that?” Hauling him over to his office he helped him inside, “I have bandages and elfroot balm in my office.”   
Bull clutched his shoulder and laughed, “it’s just a scratch. I’ve done more damage fooling around in bed.”  
“It could be poisoned Bull!” Cullen kicked open the door to his office and scrambled to find the small chest of healing supplies in his bottom drawer.  
“Oh, it was most definitely poisoned. Saar-Qamek, liquid form. If I hadn’t been dosing myself regularly since the mission, I’d be going crazy and puking my guts up right now.” Sinking his heavy form into the chair before Cullen’s desk he grimaced, “kinda glad it was you though. Don’t think boss could have handled seeing this.” Taking the clothe from Cullen’s hand he held it tight to his shoulder. Grunting again he nodded, “thanks.”  
Sorting through the chest, Cullen pulled out a jar of green paste, “here, elfroot paste with embrium. It should seal the wound.” Passing the jar to Bull he leaned upon his desk, “she’s…” his voice trailed off as he rubbed at his neck.  
“Special to you, I can see that,” Bull took the cap off the jar and dug his fingers in. Getting a wad of the paste, he began packing it into the gash. Gritting his teeth, he grinned, “don’t worry. She’s your woman, through and through. No matter how much she drinks.”  
Cullen nearly toppled over. “How… how did you?” Steadying himself he passed a roll of gauze to Bull’s outstretched hand.  
Chuckling he wrapped his wound up with the bandages, “your face gave it away. You have this look when you speak her name, or title. Don’t worry it’s not something everyone can pick up on.” Tying off the bandage he grunted standing up, “you worry about her. She can drink Rocky under the table, he’s a dwarf, that’s impressive. I won’t tell you the number of times some of the boys have tried and how she’s turned them down. They weren’t her precious Cully Wully.”  
Clearing his throat, he looked around nervously, “she called me that?”  
Tossing the jar back towards Cullen, Bull nodded, “you’re her one and only. So, you can rest easily around me and Blackwall.”  
“I….”  
“Commander!” loud banging burst the conversation as the messenger awaited Cullen’s answer.  
Cullen stalked towards the door, flinging it open, “damnit Jim, what’s the clatter about?”  
Jim stood, fiddling with his gloves, “ser, it’s Blackwall, ser. He’s gone.”


	21. Ivy in the Brick

Cullen’s face scrunched up in a half mocking glance, “Jim, speak plainly. What do you mean he is gone?”  
Jim panted and placed his hands upon his knees, “he’s just gone Ser. All his needs are taken and gone. There is a letter posted to the Inquisitor upon a wooden Griffon. I didn’t dare read it or touch it.”  
Sighing heavily, he nodded, “go inform Leliana. I shall tend to the Inquisitor myself. Dismissed.” Turning back and shutting the door he let a longer groan slip his lips. Forgetting Bull’s presence, he muttered a low curse.  
“She’s not going to be happy,” Bull snorted standing up from his chair. “Best to handle this one delicately. Or track him down and drag him back, there’s always that option.”  
Hyacinth wrung her hair out upon the balcony, enjoying an updraft of rare heated wind. Debating the length in her hands she decided it was time for a change. Freedom of choice was a nostalgia that had yet to wear off on her. Turning inside she plucked the new Silverite shears from her top drawer. Giving them a quick trial in the air she grinned. Taking a fist full of hair, she pulled it to the side. Running the diamond hardened edges of the shears through, it cut like air. Tossing the ends over the balcony she turned back to her mirror. A snip her, a snip there and she felt the weight lift from her head. Taking the length from the small of her back, all the way up to just kissing her shoulders. She had cut hair many times, in secret, at the Circle. Nothing overly special, just trims to keep the hair out of the face of the young ones, mainly. Nothing as dramatic as cutting hair like this. Fluffing her hair, she loved the image reflecting back at her. Having already laid out an outfit she hummed to herself as she went about dressing.  
“Your worship, the Commander needs your attention down at the stables immediately.” The voice was calm and polite through the door.  
“I shall head there now, inform him please,” Hyacinth smiled once more at herself as she tied the strings to her dark leggings. Feeling light she bounced her way down the steps and into the main hall. Flashing a wide toothy grin at Varric she waved as he gave her a chuckling nod. Speeding down the winding stairs into the main courtyard she caught a glimpse of Cullen’s furry mantle passing through the archway into the stable and barn area. Rushing to catch up to him she noticed him slow up near the barn and several Inquisition agents searching the grounds near the barn. “Commander?” her voice was tentative as she looked over to him.  
“You need to read the letter inside,” he didn’t raise his eyes to find hers, too afraid his own feelings may be parted upon her. Gripping the pommel of his sword till his knuckles blanched under his gloves he focused on the numbing feeling. Focused on the tingling spreading through his fingers, and over the heated flesh of his palm. Looking at the ground, counting the seconds between her steps he waited. Her steps stopped and he honed his ears on the sound. Soft shuffle of the parchment being lifted from the hand carved wooden Griffin. Swallowing he could hear the paper trembling in her hands. Her heavy steps coming towards him brought his line of sight back up to reach hers.  
“You knew! How? Where, where is he?” she flicked the letter in his face, “when? What is going on?” Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she stood, her hands shaking as she scanned his face for answers.  
“I did not know. I received word from a messenger about his departure, Inquisitor.” His eyes flicked around the courtyard, trying to hint at her role and decorum, “I sent word for you and no one was to touch the letter but you. May I?” Holding his hand out he awaited her response.  
Biting the tip of her tongue she handed him the letter then folded her arms tightly across her chest. Watching him read the letter, casually in his hand she felt rage rearing its ugly head at her, “you were jealous of him! Thought I was seeing him on the side, didn’t you! You drove him away because you were scared I might turn to him. He wasn’t interested in me, he’s my friend!”  
Cullen went to reach for her and she pulled away from him, “no, Hyacinth, no. His departure has nothing to do with… Maker’s breath pull yourself together, Inquisitor.” He gripped the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself before he uttered something obscene.  
“That’s it isn’t it. You were jealous of him! When he trained me to fight, I saw your face at the tavern last night. What did you say to him?” She shoved his chest, eyes darting over his face, searching for an answer.  
Gritting his teeth, he flashed a menacing glare, “I did no such thing. In fact, I was occupied this morning with Iron Bull and his ex-contact with the Ben-Hassrath. After which, I aided in dealing with two assassins sent to kill him. If there are anything other accusations the Inquisitor cares to levy at me, I will be in my office,” slamming the letter back into her chest he stormed off.  
Hyacinth let out a choking sob as she gripped the letter in her hands. Rushing back towards the main doors, she ran blind towards her door. Varric called her name several times only to be met with silence as she slammed the door to her chambers.  
“That could have gone better,” Bull snorted as he leaned against the frame of the tavern. “Dorian, mind poking in on your cousin? I think she could use your touch.” Letting Dorian by he handed him two bottles of wine, “take this for good measure.”  
“What about you? Plan on watching the drama from the sidelines?” Dorian crossed his arms, the bottles clinking off the many buckles running down his side.  
“No, going to go see Red,” standing straight he nodded.  
Lelianna sat upon her chair, combing through a stack of missives. “Is there something I can help you with Bull?” She didn’t even look up as she scribbled a quick message down.  
“Never gets old,” he plunked his hulking form down beside her on the table, “got a bit of a problem. Blackwall to be exact, I’m sure you’ve already heard about it and know why.”  
Chuckling to herself she grinned up at him, “suppose I know a bit, but not as much as I’d like. He is not who he claims to be. Who he really is, that I do not yet know. I do know where he might have headed. Why, well I suppose you’ll need to find that out.” Sliding a letter across the table towards him she looked over at the bandage running over his arm, “healing well?”  
Slipping the letter into his pocket he patted the bandage, “Cullen did a good enough job with it. Should be fine in a few days. Before you ask, no I don’t want pay back. I’m good.”  
Shrugging her shoulders, she pulled another letter, “as you wish. Is there anything else I can do for you?”  
“Not right now Red, thanks for this.” Standing he watched her eyes track his movements. “Next time, you should have a bit more faith in the Commander. Had you spoken to him sooner, the shit storm going on might not have happened.” He watched her intently, her face remaining emotionless.  
“I shall remember that bit of advice for the future.” Returning her gaze back to her papers, she picked up her quill, “good day, Iron Bull.”  
Dorian reached the top of the steps, the wine bottles nestled tightly under his arm, “dear cousin, I do hope you are decent. I brought you a feel-good present.”  
Sniffling Hyacinth raised her head from her pillow, “oh, Dorian, oh Maker,” she stood quickly and began fixing her clothes and brushing her hair from her face, “I look a proper mess, don’t I.”  
“Pish,” Dorian snorted as he set the bottles upon the table and went about securing a couple tumblers from her desk, “you are radiant no matter what you do. And I adore what you’ve done with your hair. Was that this morning?”  
Blushing Hyacinth nodded, “I wanted to… is it foolish that with everything going to hell around us, that I just wanted to feel beautiful?”  
Dorian burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggled, “Maker, no!” he finally managed to get out, waving a hand at her. “Come, have a drink and sit with me.” Waiting patiently for her to take her place beside him, he handed her a half-filled tumbler of wine. “Tell me all about it.”  
Cullen threw another dagger into the dummy in the corner. His breath rising rapidly and falling. Sure, he had been jealous of Blackwall, wary of others but he had no intention of driving them away. If she wished to break their coupling that was her right and her choice no matter how painful it would be to him. The last dagger cut through the air, and sank into the head of the dummy, a dull thunk his only response. Pacing back and forth, he still felt the anger bubbling in his chest. Still wished to break something other than adding further holes into the stuffed sack cretin in the corner. Deciding upon a walk to cool his head he thrust open the side door of his tower.  
Half marching before he realized his pace he slowed. Allowing the crisp mountain air to flow over his face, fill his lungs and drag away his temper. Leaning over the battlement walls he peered down into the swirling mist below. Watching the cloudy hazy dance about was nearly hypnotic as he felt the negative emotions drain from his body. Righting himself he sighed. It was already growing late in the day and there was still a stack of papers to attend to upon his desk and another round of drills the recruits needed to be put through. Feeling more at peace with himself, he headed towards the training yard. A little physical training would help knock away the last of the negative emotions.  
“I love him,” Hyacinth wailed into Dorian’s chest, “bastard.”  
Dorian patted her hair rolling his eyes as he tried to sound pleasant, “my dear this is not the way to make things work. While I am not the one to speak to about long-term relationship, or relationships in general, I would advise to let the dust settle. He cares for you greatly, that much is easy enough to see. Believe me, he most certainly did not scare off Blackwall.”  
Sniffling she lifted her head sharply, “he’s jealous of any male I’m around. As if… as if…”  
“As if they were the Lady Hawke at Adamant? Perhaps he has a reason to be concerned,” Dorian refilled the tumblers and knocked back half in one gulp. “May I suggest you get some rest, after you eat. I’m sure Leliana has some news about Blackwall and where he could have gone. If you wish to pursue him, and I’m sure you do, we should leave as soon as possible.” Standing from the couch he tipped slightly, “the wine is a bit stronger than I had anticipated. Wish me luck with the stairs.”  
Hyacinth sat for a moment, listening to Dorian’s soft footsteps as they echoed through her chamber. Her eyes stung, and she felt exhausted. Look over at the balcony doors she could see the sun beginning its descent below the rocky peaks in the distance. She didn’t feel hungry, letting out a yawn she stripped her clothes off and curled into bed. Welcoming the warmth of the silk and furs. Snuggling into her pillows she closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.  
“Please Commander, we’ve run this drill a dozen times. We’re all tired and hungry Ser, please,” bent in half, his hands upon his knees and dripping with sweat the newest recruit was begging as he peered up at the Commander.  
Snorting he groaned, “fine. Wash up, get your dinners and be all the more-ready tomorrow. Corypheus, the red templars, Venatori and bandits won’t give a toss if you are tired or hungry. Remember that for tomorrow!” Standing before the recruits, his armor glinting in the fading light he glared each one down as they skulked by him. As the last recruit disappeared he rubbed at his neck. ‘Maker they’re raw,’ he snorted the thought as he made his ascent to his office.  
“I was wondering how much longer I’d have to wait around here,” Dorian yawned as he took a sip from the goblet in his hand, “had to fetch my own wine. Me, fetch, the horror.”  
Cullen groaned, “I am in no mood for whatever this is Dorian.” Hanging his sword upon the dummy he began removing his armor, paying little attention to Dorian.  
“Your mood be damned,” Dorian spat as he stood, “you’ll hear me, whether you care to or not. Why? Because I’m here for you and Hyacinth. I detest lovers quarrels almost as much as personal confessions.” Leaning against Cullen’s desk he began pushing papers around.  
“For Hyacinth? For me? Dorian, I think the wine has gone to your head,” Cullen unbuckled his vambraces.  
Rolling his eyes Dorian scoffed, “you are a daft one. Maker, all of Skyhold heard her today. You can’t pretend that never happened.” Toying with his goblet, swirling the liquid inside he let out a long, disgusted huff, “fine, I’ll spell it out for you. You are concerned our dearest Hyacinth drinks when she’s upset. So much so, she ends up in bed with Hawke. Something I’m sure you haven’t done,” he rolled his eyes and held out his hand, “and you believe that she will fail to honor you. Am I right so far?”  
Cullen perked his head up as he placed his breastplate onto the dummy, “continue.”  
“Ah good,” Dorian relaxed slightly and continued, “and she is concerned you are too good for her. Too pretty, too kind, too,” waving his hand about Cullen’s body he laughed, “manly for someone so naive and child like as her. So, you see, she fears you’ll drive all her friends away and then leave her for someone as gifted as Hawke. While you fear she will find a better man than you. Have I hit the point?”  
Cullen couldn’t move, couldn’t utter a word as his mind raced to absorb the words Dorian flung at him. She thought he was too good for her? How could he be? A broken man, addict, murderer, and worse still as unsure of himself, unsure what he was. He could lie to himself, lie to those around him saying he had put the past in the past, rebuilt himself into a decent man. But he knew better, had spent those nights in a cold sweat, guts wrenching tight only to feel the seething hate wash back over him anew.  
“I see I’ve hit a rather sore spot,” Dorian’s tone shifted, taking on a softer edge, “I apologize. I care for you both and I would be remiss to say I was able to keep a level head about this.”  
“Thank you,” Cullen barely managed to squeak out the words as he finished placing the last piece of armor on the dummy. “Perhaps, it is time to call this a night.”  
Sighing loudly Dorian downed the goblet’s cool liquid and nodded, “on that we can agree. Here,” pulling a letter from his pouch he held it between his fingers tips, “read this. I would recommend leaving before we can. Secure lodging, perhaps an apology as well. Just an idea,” extending his arm out to Cullen he waited. Keeping a tight lock on his movements.  
Turning Cullen softly took the letter, “I shall take that into consideration. I appreciate your aid Dorian. Truly,” opening the letter he read it through. Information about a public hanging of a man named Mornay set to take place soon in Val Royeux. If Hyacinth had this she would wish to leave as soon as possible to Val Royeux, seek out Blackwall and find out what happened. Looking up he noticed Dorian had slipped out of his tower. Giving his head a shake he made plans to leave at day break. Taking a fresh sheet of paper from his desk he scrawled out a letter before pacing over to the door. Throwing it open he flagged over a messenger, “deliver this to Leliana, stop for nothing.” Without hesitation, and clear signs of fear, the man carefully took the letter and rushed across the battlements towards the rotunda.  
Morning broke over the frost kissed ridges of the mountain spears as Hyacinth slung her pack over the back of the horse, strapping it down tightly, “we need to hurry. I don’t know why this execution is of import to Blackwall but for him to be interested in it does not bode well.”  
“You realize Bumbles, most Grey Wardens weren’t the upper crust of the nice guys before they became part of that order. Most men see the Wardens as a chance to atone for being a dirty bastard. Murders, criminals, mages running from the Circle…” Varric sighed, “some are decent men, I’m sure, but there is a history there, Bumbles,” hoisting his gear up he used a large stool to reach the saddle.  
Biting her tongue, she shook her head, “that’s not who Blackwall is now, and people make terrible mistakes all the time. Its what they do moving forward that counts.”  
“Careful boss,” Bull nodded along, “Varric’s got a point. If he is in trouble, we have to play this carefully.”  
Dorian slapped Bull’s arm, “vissante kaffas Bull! This is hard enough on her already. Let’s hurry to Val Royeux and make up our minds once we know what we’re looking at.”  
The trek to Val Royeux would take them a few days and plenty of time to discuss what they did or didn’t think the problem was. Hyacinth was a sulking mess as they journeyed through Jader and met the runner’s ship at the dock. A day and a half later they were marching through the front gates of the pearl of Orlais. Varric drew in a deep breath as the local bakery’s sweet confections drew a pleasant scent on the breeze, “only think I like about Orlais. They have some of the finest little cakes.”  
“You can stop to buy some sweet cakes before we leave,” Hyacinth let out a soft chuckle. Seeing a crowd gather round towards the opposite side of the lion crested fountain she felt a twinge of nervous energy spike through her. “I don’t like this.”  
Bull quietly slipped the letter from his pocket, “this Mornay fellow, seems they moved his date up. Says he was supposed to meet the hangman tomorrow at high noon. This is clearly not high noon.” Folding the paper up he returned it, “wonder if the man decided today was a better day to die.”  
“Tell me. What are Mornay’s charges?” Hyacinth slowly combed through the people, picking her way towards the drawn crowd.  
Closing his eye and standing beside her Bull rattled off the information from memory, “the charges where treason, murder, and abandoning his sworn post.”  
Hyacinth swallowed hard as the crowds’ chatter began to subside and a man dressed in pitch black clothes walked up the scaffold before them. A grim skeletal mask covering his face. Beside him, a man in tattered prison clothes kept his head down. Hyacinth was unable to make out his face as she peered over the gallery of on lookers. Fitting the noose around the man’s head the executioner moved him over to the trap door and waited. Coming up the steps yet another man, dressed in court finery, carrying a large scroll. He too wore a mask. Polished metal, made to appear like a regal beauty with only two holes for eyes. Mumbling against the mask the man cleared his throat, “ladies and gentlemen of Orlais. We have before you the traitor Cyril Mornay. Charged with the deaths of Lord and Lady Callier, and their four children, retainers, coachmen, and guards. You are sentenced to hang by the neck until dead.”  
The crowd gasped and a string of louder whispers and conversations began. Hyacinth clasped her hand to her mouth as Cyril’s head shot up. He was an older man, his hair long receded from the crown of his head, leaving on a tuft of silver encircling his temples. His skin was ashen and heavily wrinkled. Speaking of the hardships of his life. His eyes plead as he spoke, “I did not know who they were! I was only following orders!”  
“Yes, you and all your ilk have said the same. Yet, we cannot find your Captain, Thom Rainier and since he speak on these accusations. You must stand for your part,” the man waved over at the executioner, “do you have any final words before you meet the Maker?”  
“I do!” a bellowing voice burst from the crowd and people shifted to make way for the man it came from.  
“Blackwall,” Hyacinth gasped, knuckles still buried in her mouth.  
“That’s not Blackwall….” Bull shook his head as Dorian jabbed an elbow into him.  
Holding a hand up the announcing man halted the executioner, “a Grey Warden. What do you have to say, good Ser?”  
Blackwall climbed the steps to the gallows, two at a time. Reaching the crest, he turned to the crowd, “this man is innocent. He knew nothing of the target he was sent after. He received orders and like a good soldier he followed them.”  
“You’re impassioned pleas for this man are honorable, Ser Warden, but your word alone will not save him. Without his Captain speaking, he is guilty.” The man went to wave the executioner when Blackwall stepped closer, “no. This is over, I’m done hiding. I gave the order. I am Thom Rainier.”  
Hyacinth’s knees buckled as the announcer pointed at two guards to take Blackwall away. Her eyes stung as her head whirled. If it hadn’t been for Bull’s firm grip on her, she’d have slacked to the cobblestone. Mornay’s bindings were cut and the noose removed from his neck as he was escorted down from the gallows. “I… need air,” she felt dizzy as people around her began to disperse. Bull helped ease her off to the side, having Varric fetch her some water.  
“We should head to the jail, discuss what they intend to do. Perhaps you wish to speak with him?” Dorian was soft as he rubbed the center of her back gently.  
“I… yes… that’s what the Inquisitor would do, right?” she was trembling as she clutched the skin of water from Varric. Only daring to take a small sip, “I need something harder than water.” Her eyes looked up at Bull, pleading for him to have his usual skin full of something. “Please… I can’t….” Every fiber in her was screaming, shaking and her mind couldn’t keep focused. Sweat began to slick the small of her back, the base of her neck. Icy cold and clammy.  
Bull pulled a small flask from his pocket, “just a couple sips, you need to keep your head.”  
Greedily Hyacinth took a quick swig back. Feeling the liquid tingle her throat and give a soft burn as it travelled down. Almost moaning she sighed out, “thank you.” Taking one last sip, she returned it to Bull’s outstretched hand, “alright. Let’s do this.”  
Varric sighed, “Bumbles, you need to handle this with him alone. I’m going to go take a walk,” he looked over at Bull and Dorian, “got something I need to take care of.” Dorian and Bull made awkward excuses and ducked out as well.  
“Great, thanks,” Hyacinth mumbled. What little alcohol she had gotten wasn’t nearly enough for her to do this alone. Taking in a long deep breath she began the walk across the shopping district towards the jails in the back half of the massive bazaar. People pointed and whispered back and forth as she passed by. Occasionally she caught a word or two, ‘Inquisitor,’ and the random ‘mage’ that bristled their lips. It seemed that even after all she had already done, they still didn’t see her as the leader of the Inquisition. Trying not to let that sink into her, she pushed on. Quickly stepping up the marble steps to the jail doors. Thick, heavy, iron forged doors with bars over the windows.  
“Inquisitor?” the burly looking guard snapped to attention at his desk, “how can I assist you today, your worship?”  
“I wish to speak with Bla… Thom Rainier, please.” His name felt foreign to her lips, and tasted wrong. Watching the jailor dig through his pocket and product a plate size key ring. Dozens of keys chimed against each other. Some smaller and more delicate looking against thick crudely forged hunks of metal. Following his led, they descended a narrow stairwell into a dark, windowless basement. Only the light of several torches, caste their glow into the murky depth. “Down that way your worship, third cell from the back. Ain’t got no one else, so don’t be afeared.”  
His boot steps faded behind her as she stood, frozen in place. What was she to say? How did this happen? Taking a few quick breaths, she took a shaking forward step. Putting one foot in front of the other, she willed herself to move towards the cells in the back. Nearing his cell, she squinted in the dim light. An unlit torch near her, she cast out, illuminating the back corner she thrust her hands up to her lips.  
There in the cell, sitting on the filthy, straw covered floor, sat Blackwall. “Why did you come?”  
Sliding down to the floor she wanted to touch him. “Why… How… Who….” Her words were soft enough the empty room failed to echo them back.  
Shaking his head, he tossed a hand full of straw to the side, “I didn’t kill Blackwall, if you must know. He met me at a tavern. Wanted to recruit me for the Wardens. We travelled for some distance towards Val Chevin before he sent me down an old ruin. Left from the last blight, to kill a darkspawn and collect a vial of its blood. When I came back, he was ambushed by the creatures. He took the killing blow to save me.”  
Swallowing hard Hyacinth nodded. Her head was spinning the words flying through her mind, “that was incredible.”  
“I wanted to continue on to Val Chevin, but without Blackwall there was no way to know for certain that he had recruited me. Or that I didn’t kill him. I exchanged his life for mine. Thom Rainier died that day and Warden Blackwall continued to live. A better man continued to live.”  
“Mornay, his crimes. You ordered them?” she was clutching her hands together, trying to hide the shaking.  
“Yes,” he didn’t even look up, his voice flat and emotionless. “Lord Callier. He was a general under the service of Empress Celene. A Chevalier, Robert Chapuis wanted him dead. A gift to Duke Gaspard to strengthen his claim to the throne. I was offered more gold than I had ever seen in my life. It was just supposed to be Callier…” he pounded his fist into the ground. “I never knew he was travelling with his wife and their four children. I gave the order to kill everything at that location. My men never knew, I didn’t know.” There was a clear sense of pain in the man’s voice as he sat, sunk in his place on the floor.  
“Maker…” she barely got out as Blackwall turned and gripped the bars, rattling the cage. Scrambling to her feet she muffled a scream in her hands.  
“I’m a monster, don’t you see that! I sent these men to kill and they killed. Wiping out an entire family and when the news of what happened came to light, I ran! A weak, coward…” he slipped back down the bars, his knees making a dull sound against the stone.  
Taking several hurried steps backwards, Hyacinth turned and fled up the steps of the jail. Banging on the metal bars, “jailor, I wish to leave.” Half jittering about she couldn’t focus straight only waiting for the sluggish brute to open the door. Once freed she was rushing to get out when she heard his voice.  
“Inquisitor,” Cullen stood tall, a letter held tightly in his hand as he turned from the man he was speaking with. Looking over his shoulder he smiled, “may I have a word with you, in private.”  
“Please, outside if you would,” she tried to maintain the calm appearance before the small group of Orlesian soldiers.  
Cullen bowed and heading to the door, held it wide for her. Once outside he scanned the market. Seeing a quiet corner, he paced quickly towards it. Turning to meet her he maintained his Commander role, “have you spoken to Black… Thom?”  
“Can we get him out? Do we have that power?” she dug the tip of her boot into the soil, loose bits of grass and stone flicked away. “This isn’t right…”  
Gritting his jaw Cullen tried to keep a level head, “he ordered the death of…”  
“Of a general. He never intended to kill the family. I know it sounds monstrous, I know. I just… he’s not that man. He saved a group of villagers when we met him. He taught me how to fight, trained out men. He saved all those Grey Wardens with his speech… if he was a truly evil and cold man, how could he do such things?” She tugged at the leather tips of her gloves. Wanting nothing more than to disappear into the bottom of the nearest tankard.  
Nodding he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I can understand, he wanted to be a better man. But why come forward now? Why throw it all away now?”  
Hyacinth pulled the letter from her pouch, “this.”  
“Inquisitor, you’ve been a friend and an inspiration. You’ve given me the wisdom to know right from wrong and, more importantly, the courage to uphold the former. It’s been my honor to serve you,” Cullen read the letter aloud. “Maker’s breath.”  
“I can’t leave him in there to rot or worse to hang! He isn’t the man that chose easy money over life. He… he’s like you…” she cast her eyes to the apple tree standing on the corner, facing the gallows. Bright, vibrant red apples hanging upon the branches, ready to be harvested.  
Arching an eyebrow towards her, he struggled to maintain his appearance, “me… I…” pausing he realized it as well. He wasn’t the man he once was. One who condemned and would have and had killed mages at the command of another. He was no different in some ways and he too had turned his life about. Made it better, paid his penance and if the Inquisition succeeded he may well yet atone. Licking his dry lips, he nodded, “alright. We have…”  
“I don’t want to know how you have to do it. Just have it done. As little bloodshed as possible, get him back.” Her eyes stung horribly and all she wanted to do was to find the nearest bar and drain it.  
“It shall be done. I have made arrangements for everyone to rest at the inn tonight and we can begin our return to Skyhold tomorrow.” Leading her down the alley way he brought her to a quaint little inn at the furthest side of Val Royeux, “it’s not much but it’s private and we have it to ourselves.”  
“Good,” Hyacinth didn’t bother to look at him as she thrust the door open and calmly strolled up to the bar.  
“Inquisitor, how may I be of service to you?” the petit, round faced woman was polishing a glass tankard in her hand with a rag.  
“Drink, and leave the bottle. I’ll require food, I do not care what it is,” dropped a few coins on the table she watched the woman smile and pocket the coin as she filled a mug for her and left the bottle. “Your meal will be ready in a little your worship. Anything for your man here?” Pointing over her shoulder the woman motioned towards Cullen.  
“I’ll have honey mead if you have it,” he sat beside Hyacinth at the bar, “and whatever the house special is.”  
Chuckling the woman filled his mug and left the bottle behind, “won’t be long.” Smiling she hummed away carefree into the back kitchen.  
Drinking down nearly half of her mug in one take, she plunked the mug down heavily against the bar top, “not afraid I’ll fuck the bar maid before the evening is out,” her words were bitter as she filled the mug.  
Matching her eagerness with drink he hammered his mug down and topped it back off, “not at all. There are, an impressive lack of better men than I in this room.” Swiping the foam from the top of his mug he grunted, “and there aren’t any women for me to begin ranking.”  
Snarling she emptied the mug in one take. Refilling it again from the bottle, “do you always joke so freely with someone’s pain?”  
“No, just when they insult mine.”  
Silence blanketed them for several moments as they stared ahead, seated on the bar stools, sipping at their drinks. When the bar maid came back with their meals, they ate in silence. Finishing their bottles, the staggered up the steps of the inn towards their rooms, “if this how we leave this?” Hyacinth stumbled forward into his arms.  
Growling under his breath he pinned her against the wall, “I don’t want to.”  
“Take me to bed.”


	22. Where Flowers Dare to Bloom

Cullen’s head throbbed as he struggled to focus as the morning rays filtering in through the drapes. Flopping a pillow over his face he tried to reason what had occurred the night prior. “Hyacinth,” he groaned out, realizing he was nude under the warm woolen blanket.   
“Mhmm,” she mumbled as her fingers slid up his chest, a cooling sensation licking his temples and seeping the hangover from him.   
“Fuck,” he mumbled against his forearm as he laid on his back, “it wasn’t… we weren’t…”  
Sitting upright and tossing the blankets back, Hyacinth stood in the buff, stretching, “ugh, you don’t remember do you? And I’m supposed to be the lousy drunk.” Seeing no movement from him she shrugged her shoulders, “we kissed and made up. Well mostly. You did the talking part in your sleep. Did you know you talk in your sleep? Full on conversations, its glorious.”  
“A conversation I don’t remember doesn’t help me much,” he groaned peeking out from under his arm. Enjoying the view of her form in the hazy glow of the room. “Could you run it by me?”  
Pulling her hair up atop of her head she tied it tightly, “we admitted we had faults but as long as we talk about it we can over come them. Of course, you were much more elegant and,” giving a coy grin she licked her lips, “you were very convincing.”  
Shaking his head, he was angry with himself. Nearly a week journey, to set this up and instead of being a calm, rational adult he resorted to thinking with his dick again. Like a horny teenager he let himself get lost in the pleasure and joy she brought him. “I wanted to talk to you. Wanted to get this out of me in a rational... it doesn’t matter.”  
Sitting on the bed, still naked Hyacinth smiled, “I understand. And I’m sorry for blaming you for Blackwall… Thom leaving. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I’m thankful you came, and I’m even more glad we worked out our issues.”  
Taking her hand in his, he was unsure what to say, how to act, after all this was completely out of the realm of his understanding. “I… apologize for thinking you may betray me with Bull or Blackwall. Thom.” Giving his head a slight shake he nodded, “I had a messenger send word back to Skyhold. If they did not hear from me by this morning they were to begin a way to retrieve him. Leliana should be working on something as we speak.”  
Laughing she stood from the bed, “so quickly you jump to business. Come, we should dress and get breakfast. We will need to catch passage on a ship before nightfall.”  
Groaning loudly, he sat up, “sea fare and I do not fare well together.”  
“Aren’t you glad, I’m a healer?” she chuckled as she began pulling on her clothes.   
“So, Blackwall or Thom was actually a money grubbing murder. Life really does have its fanciful twists,” Dorian scoffed as the boat swayed in the choppy sea, “never would have thought he’d ever do something like that. Too much of an honor bound type. Guess I read that one wrong.”  
Bull shot him a glance, “not fair. Knew he was hiding something, knew it was a military past. The way he carried himself gave away that much and his skill with a blade showed some extensive training. Never got the feel he was a cold-blooded bastard. Mistake maybe, not out right murderer.”   
Hyacinth clung to the railing watching the sea swell and ebb as their vessel was bounced along the waves, “no. He’s not a murder. He didn’t know the children would be there. Didn’t know Callier’s wife would be there or the retainers. He was paid to kill a single man. Were it an assassination contract with a guild we wouldn’t even turn our noses at it.” Recalling the book on the House of Repose in Orlais she snorted, “he’d be rich and disappeared all the same. Would we turn his aid down if he were? I’d dare to guess we wouldn’t. He spent the last three years trying to make things right. Being Blackwall and trying to right little wrongs as much as he could. Then with us. He could have stayed behind. Walked away. Instead, he gives himself over to our cause, bled, sweated and struggled with us. No, I won’t hear it.” Standing tall she looked over to Bull and then back at Dorian, “he is one of us and I will not leave him behind. He could have let them hang Mornay, but he didn’t. He made it right. He has the blood of innocent people on his hands, but killing him won’t bring them back. We only lose a good man, who can and wants to do good.” Pushing herself off the railing she moved towards the steps leading to the gully of the ship, “and he’s my friend. I will never abandon a friend.”  
Her feelings didn’t change as their journey progressed. Each stage they tried to speak, each stage she said the same thing. Shooting Cullen, a nasty glare when his tone became harsh towards the convicted man. Soon the group realized she was in some ways right. Dorian was a Tevinter mage, and yet he came here to help. Should they have turned him away? No, and they didn’t, she didn’t. Bull was a Qunari spy and she did not turn him away. She stood by him when the time came and he knew she was right. Varric didn’t even bother arguing, he saw her point straight from the get go. Remembering his old Kirkwall friends, Fenris, Isabela, and even Anders. Cullen was quiet, sitting through most of the conversations not wanting to bring up his own sordid past.  
Arriving at Skyhold he pulled her to the war room. Leliana and Josephine already waiting their return, “is it done?” his voice was low as they entered the chamber.  
“Yes,” Leliana looked over to Hyacinth, “did you wish to know the details? It is probably best you do.” Biting her tongue Hyacinth could only nod as Leliana continued. “We had a man, caught not far from Val Royeux. He has,” pausing she looked to Josephine, who nodded, “was an issue for us. He bore a striking similarity to Thom Rainier. As of yesterday morning, that man was executed in Thom’s place. As far as the Orlesian’s are concerned the matter is resolved. Even if they discover the switch they will deny everything, claiming they hung the true Thom Rainier and this man is but a doppelganger.”  
Josephine cleared her throat, “I secured passage for Thom and a small Inquisition escort. They should arrive within the next day or two at most. It is your decision what befalls him, Inquisitor.”  
“Wait, what?” Hyacinth half lurched back from the table, “decision? What do you mean?”  
Cullen stood firm at his spot at the table, “as the Inquisitor you have the right to hold trial and with the favors we’ve gained, any decision you make, within reason, will be honored. You have the ability to pardon him, sentence him as you see fit, conscript him, forcefully, into the Inquisition, or execute him yourself.” Picking up a letter off the table he was trying his hardest not to make eye contact with her. She needed to deal with this aspect of being the Inquisitor. With their favor growing daily in local kingdoms, smaller cities and territories people were turning to them for legal aid. It would be up to her, to secure that and she would have to make her first decision with Thom Rainier.   
“Pardon him and be done with it,” she stood stunned, “is that not enough?  
Josephine scribbled a letter away, “I’m afraid it will not be enough. You will be required to sit upon the throne at the head of the main hall. The prisoner...”  
“He’s not a prisoner,” Hyacinth’s neck was turning a vibrant red as she struggled to maintain her calm.  
“Under the laws we uphold, he is.” Josephine didn’t even break her stride, “he will be brought before you, in chains. The charges will be read for the room to hear. He will be given a chance to speak, then you will be able to address him. He may defend himself then you will proclaim your sentence. Is this clear?”  
Leaning her palms on the table she tried to calm herself. Letting her head fall and hunch over she tried breathing deeply. “I don’t have a choice, do I? Then I will do so when the time comes.”  
“Inquisitor, bare in mind your decision will impact the Inquisition and how Thedas sees it. Pardoning Thom may win you some favors with some, but it will no doubt earn you ire from Orlais. Particularly those loyal to Celene.” Leliana took the letter from Cullen and placed it back upon the table. “There is one other thing.”  
Hyacinth let a bitter chuckle bubble out, “if you’re going to hurt me, may as well get it all done and over with.”  
“Hya…”  
“Hush, Commander,” Leliana waved a hand, “we have dignitaries from all over arriving daily to meet with you. For the most part Josephine and I have done our best to handle every situation we can. This is not easy to ask of you, and I apologize in advance.” Taking a deep breath, she looked over to Josephine who nodded slowly, “we know you and the Commander share a bed. So, does half of Skyhold. However, he is still wanted by many in Orlais. Stringing these possible suitors along, will yield much in the way of information, power and coin. If you are seeing the Commander and intend to continue to see him. You must be discreet.”  
“I should have known better,” Hyacinth’s voice was barely a rumble as her eyes began to well up, “I’m not free. I never was. I simply traded one stone cage for a much prettier one.” Her head shot up as she looked about the room. “I have to play along, be the Inquisitor, save the damned world and what will I get in return? Consumed. Will it ever be enough?” Tears began to stream down her face as she angrily swiped at the pieces upon the table, sending scads of iron icons chiming to the floor. Bursting into a full sob she turned and ran out of the room.   
No one moved at first. A sense of shame passing between the council as they stood around their table, little pieces scattered along the floor. Josephine was the first to move, bending down and carefully picking up the pieces. Leliana came next, sweeping up several of her raven iron markers. Cullen stood frozen, unsure what to do, or how to even do it.   
Hyacinth hurled the empty demijohn of wine across the room, letting a deep chested roar rip from her lips, as it shattered into a thousand pieces just over the stairwell leading out of her chambers. This was too much, all too much. It was bad enough she was dealing with her inexperience in relationships, her newness to the outside world, but now to have her only joy taken from her. Her fists balled up tightly as she paced back and forth, torn between the urge to run and the urge to fight. Fight for all she had. “They aren’t going to keep me in another prison, to parade about as they wish,” she grumbled tossing a glass out over the balcony. Having exhausted the breakable items from the top of her desk she didn’t feel any better. She needed to speak to Cullen, maybe he could talk some sense into Leliana and Josephine. Knowing how much he hated nobility perhaps he could be swayed to her side. Stomping down the steps she paced through the main hall, not giving anyone a second of her time. Slamming the door open to the rotunda she barreled straight into Solas. “Oh, I’m so sorry, are you alright?” she bent down to help steady him.  
“My apologizes, I am not myself.” Easing back on his feet he relaxed, “may I ask of you a favor? I do not wish to do so but I believe I will require someone’s aid and I would be thankful for yours.”  
Cocking her head sideways she nodded, “of course Solas, what can I aid you with?” Inside she pleaded that it was urgent. Something that would take her from Skyhold, something she might be able to strike down. She craved the fresh air outside of the four looming Keep walls.   
Seeming to sense her interest he gave her a soft smirk, “a friend of mine called to me in a dream. She’s been trapped by mages, a few hours ride from here. I… I must try.” He genuinely seemed lost as he spoke, not like his usual stone appearance.  
“Then we should leave right away. You can tell me everything as we ride,” tugging his arm she led them to the armory, where they collected their weapons and armament. Setting off to the stable she ignored several messengers asking for her attention. “Not now, I must attend to urgent Inquisition business,” she took great delight in leaving them with little answers. Even further so knowing that Josephine and Leliana would have no idea where she was. Hopping atop of her favourite mare, Chestnut she nodded to Solas, “quickly, lead the way and tell me all about your friend. How did the mages capture her?”  
“With a binding spell I would suspect,” Solas frowned as they rode. Seeing her puzzled expression, he began explaining. “My friend is a spirit of wisdom. I have spent many hours in the Fade conversing with her. Spirits are not inherently evil, no more than your blade. Spirits become demons when their original purpose is twisted, distorted. Wisdom becomes Pride, Justice becomes Vengeance, Love Rage, and so on.” He paused briefly to adjust his hands upon the saddle as they trotted away from Skyhold. “She has been a dear friend to me for some time. Aiding in my understandings of the old ways, ancient teachings long lost to history and I have come to cherish her.”  
“That sounds magical,” Hyacinth sighed as she listened to his story. In the Circle, they had been taught that demons desired only to devour and consume. Some scholars dared to believe this was not always the way it had been. Claiming instead to have stumbled upon spirits wishing to lend aid in Harrowings and in evading demons. One such text even said one aided the Hero of Fereldan in her Harrowing. A spirit of Justice seeking to even the odds against her.   
Solas chuckled, “it is rare to see one so open to the idea that spirits are not dangerous entities needing to be destroyed. You have treated Cole with great kindness. Perhaps you call him a friend?” Watching her rise and fall with the gait of her stead he nodded to himself.  
Smiling back at him she spoke, “he is a good person. He only wishes to help and has proven to be of aid to us. Why would I turn him away? But I suppose that answers your questions.” Chuckling she pointed ahead, “are we near your friend?”  
“Up ahead, we should set the horses back. Lest something comes to pass,” his voice was grave as he jumped down from his mount. Leading them over to a tight crop of thin trees he secured the reigns tightly before turning back to her, “if they have bound her, and made her go against her nature…”  
“There must be a way to free her. We need to hurry.”  
Following Solas deftly through the underbrush and detritus of fallen autumnal foliage she could see a glinting pulse of light in the opening before them. “No…” Solas’s voice was hollow and cold as he turned to look over his shoulder, “she… damn them.”  
“Help, you there, please!” a fat, bulbous faced stocky man came ambling over towards them.  
“Bergmen?” Hyacinth half spat. He was from her Circle in Ostwick. A nosy, busy body who was convinced he knew more than the collective libraries of all Thedas. Nearly a constant irritation to her and many others, it was a surprise to see him in the middle of the wilderness.   
“Oh Hyacinth, thank the Maker!” He tried to reach for and gave a puzzled face when she drew back, “whatever is the matter dear girl? I’d thought you’d be ecstatic to see old Bergmen again.”  
Solas cleared his throat and looked over at the two cowering mages standing behind the rotund lout, “what have you done!?”  
“We were scared,” Bergmen whined turning back to Hyacinth, “please you must help us! We were afraid, so many demons in the area and bandits. We decided to summon a spirit to aid us. When we commanded it to kill, it… it… became that!” he shoved a theatric finger towards the looming Pride demon pacing back and forth, howling into the open air about it.  
“That’s because you made it do something against it’s purpose!’ Solas’s teeth ground hard, letting out a squeal, “she was a spirit of Wisdom.”  
Bergmen huffed and folded his arms tightly across his chest, causing the fabric about his arms to stretch immensely, “I am one of the brightest scholars in Thedas. Spirits are not…”  
“Shut up,” Solas’s words held an edge as the arcane surrounding him began to tingle.  
“You clearly know nothing, savage…”  
“Shut up, Bergmen,” Hyacinth turned to Solas, “I know the binding spell they used. There should be six pillars. All made of mud or close to. Enchanted to hold her. If we break them, she should be free.”  
“Yes, she would no longer be forced to go against her nature. Yes, it might work.” Looking over at the Pride demon as it’s massive body hulked over the near by tree he nodded, “it won’t be easy, if we move quickly we should be able to free her.”  
“NO!” Bergmen grabbed at Hyacinth’s arm, “if you release the binding, we’re all dead!” The two younger mages behind him fled off into the bushes and Bergmen tightened his grip about her wrist, “I cannot allow you too….”  
He didn’t get to finish his words as Solas cast out and slammed him to the ground, “sit, fool and perhaps you will learn before the end.” Turning back to Hyacinth, a fire lit in his eyes, he gripped his staff tightly, “you take the far side, away from her. I shall draw her to me if the worst is to come, I will bare the burden.”  
Together they raced towards the pillars, glowing a vibrant sky blue they weren’t hard to see. Hyacinth drew her spirit blade. Charging energy into the focused edge she crushed the first pillar easily enough, “they’re poorly constructed, this won’t be long. Hold on Solas!” she yelled out as she rushed towards the next pillar. Looking over she saw him shatter two pillars with his magic. Only two more, as she shattered her second. The Pride demon howled and turned about trying to decide which target to strike first. Solas let a flash out which temporarily blinded the demon as it doubled over with a howl. “Hurry!” Solas yelled as he forced the third of his pillars to explode. Hyacinth slashed at the last, cutting it down into dust.   
Turning to see the place where the demon once stood, she saw a crumbled mess upon the ground that looked like a young elven girl. She would have appeared completely normal, expect for two very visible differences. Her entire body, clothing and skin were a dark pitch, and her eyes shone a pulsing green. The same green as the gash that ran along Hyacinth’s left palm. Even with the darkness about her, Hyacinth could almost feel the sorrow and the pain emanating from the spirit. Letting the energy ebb from her blade she stowed her hilt away, clipping it once again to her belt. Watching intently, she saw the sorrow echoed in Solas’s eyes as he hastened over to her and knelt before her. They exchanged words in elvhen that Hyacinth didn’t understand. Solas hung his head, before slowly lifting his hands and uttering, loudly, “ir abelas. Dareth shiral,” as he nodded. The spirits body began to glow and then flake away. Only a small bit of flotsam hung in the air before a soft breeze carried it away over the tree tops.   
“Solas, I’m so sorry,” she felt horrible. All the effort, their rush and desperation, all meaning nothing.  
“Don’t be. We gave her a moments peace before the end. That’s more than it would have had without us. All that remains now,” he turned his fiery gaze over to Bergmen who was creeping towards them, “is him.”  
Bergmen brushed himself off, “oh thank you Hyacinth. These roads are too dangerous to travel alone. I believed that summoning the spirit would be worth while. What a mess,” he sighed rolling his thick neck in his hand.  
“You,” Solas pouncing up from the ground and stalked towards Bergmen, “you tortured and killed my friend. “   
Bergmen looked over to Hyacinth, his eyes pleading as he scampered backwards. “Please, don’t let him do this! The book said…”  
Hyacinth felt sick at his words. Turning her back to him she shut her eyes. The air about her pricked her skin, the energy dancing along the hairs upon her arms. Squeezing her eyes shut she didn’t want to look, didn’t want to admit that part of her believed what was about to befall Bergmen was a long time coming. Didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted sense of joy that poked through the surface. Hearing the snapping and popping fill the air she shuddered as it burst with a loud bang. There was silence that seemed to carry for several long minutes before she dared to open her eyes. “Damn them all.” Solas spat at the remains of the flaming corpse. Grunting he turned to see Hyacinth, “I… I need some time alone. I shall see you back at Skyhold.”   
Unable to find any words that would properly convey her sympathies to him she nodded. Seeing him pace off down the dirty path till he disappeared into the dense forest beyond.   
“What do you mean the Inquisitor is gone!?” Cullen’s voice boomed through the tower, several Inquisition messengers cowering before him.  
“Well ser, she was with Solas, and they collected their gear and…”  
“You saw them make preparations to leave and didn’t think once to come and inform me?!” again his angered voice thrummed through the tight confines of the tower walls. He could feel the vein throbbing on the side of his neck, his head beginning to pound with the pressure building inside his skull. Where could she be? What had driven her away, and with Solas? It must have been some form of personal quest to aid Solas, but where? And furthermore, alone! He was seething.   
“Ser…”  
“Just get out,” he waved his hand at them as he pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. Hearing feet scramble and the door latch click behind them he sunk into the chair behind his desk. What was he to do? Where could she have gone? Searching through the letters upon his desk, there was nothing in her writing. Trying to think he slammed his fists on his desk. This was his fault, not standing beside her, not tell Leliana and Josephine that they had over stepped. He groaned at the pain, welling up in his fists.   
“Commander,” Cassandra’s voice broke the silence as she stepped into the room, crossing it with ease she stood before his desk. “One of Leliana’s scout’s reports that the Inquisitor is on her way back. She is but a couple hours ride from here.” She eyed him over as he half nodded, “is there something the matter?”  
Placing his head in his hands he closed his eyes, “I am a fool.”  
Cassandra sighed and took a seat across from him, “perhaps. Perhaps I know what you speak of. Perhaps I say, damn the Orlesian nobility. Perhaps you have the right to love freely and without concern.” Crossing her legs, she relaxed against the back of the chair, “you and Hyacinth have given enough to the Inquisition and there will be more yet to give, once we locate Corypheus and Samson. You both should get to enjoy your romance in all of its splendor.” Her eyes twinkled as she spoke, passion pouring into each word.  
“I forgot how much of a romantic you are, Cassandra,” Cullen chuckled lifting his gaze, “however, I doubt it works so well in practical terms. Hyacinth and I are not one of Varric’s infamous star-crossed lovers.”  
“Perhaps not,” Cassandra let a huff out as she stood up, “but everyone deserves the kind of passion you both bring out in each other. Never let things stand in your way Commander, you must fight for every moment. If I were to give you any advice, that would be it.” Tipping her head, she turned to leave, “she will return, Cullen. She has something that means the world to her here.”  
Taking the reigns of Solas’s horse she grumbled, “do I take you… I can’t right leave you here. Oh, I hope Solas understands.” Untying his horse from the tree she held the reigns in her hand as her mare and her trotted towards Skyhold. “If I’m right we should make it back just before the sun goes down. Just in time for a big ol’ bag of oats, just for you Chestnut.” She patted the mare lovingly with her free hand. Tying the reigns of Solas’s horse around her pommel she sighed, “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name. But you are a lovely deep black. Hmm…” she mused for a moment, “perhaps Ebony? Do you like that name?” She watched the horse seem to ponder it, “it’s a nice name right Chestnut?” Her horse gave a happy snort. “See it’s a wonderful name.” Cantering down the path Solas’s horse seemed to settle on his name. “Its been a while since I’ve had some animal friends to chat with. Last time it was a couple fish in a frozen pond.” Thinking back on Haven she let out a long groan, “I wonder if they survived the attack. I probably shouldn’t think about it too much.” Patting her mare, she looked up the path ahead, seeing Skyhold looming above her in the distance. “Perhaps we all have to live with the fates left to us.”   
Staring out over the battlements Cullen leaned against the stone. Searching as far as his eyes could, while the sun began to slowly set down over the Frostback Mountain range. “Come on,” he gritted between his teeth as he tried to find her. Panic had more than set in as he spent the day ignoring messengers, even going so far as to throwing one out of his office. Taking another walk around the battlements he tried not to let the fear seep in.   
“Inquisitor returning!”   
The horn blew as he whipped his head around to see her trotting up the pathway. “Where…” he didn’t see Solas, only an empty horse as he quickly jogged down the steps along the battlements and raced towards the gates. Pushing past several people he reached the gates, trying to return himself to some semblance of the Commander he was, he stood tall. “Inquisitor, we… I am pleased you returned.” He felt jittery inside, anxious at her response.  
“Thank you, Commander,” she looked around seeing the small crowd gathering. Hopping down off her horse she stood tall, “I shall have a report ready for you shortly. Could you brief me on what I have missed this afternoon? I am free to speak now, if you are.”  
He gave a questioning glance as he was taken aback by her change in attitude, “yes, Inquisitor I have the time to spare. I shall meet you in my office.” Bowing he turned and strolled back towards his tower. All the while questioning what he had just seen.  
Taking her time, she patted Chestnut and Ebony’s snouts, giving each an apple from their feed bins, “wonderful job, both of you.” Holding her hands out she let the horses nibble away at the apples. “You’ve both helped me greatly today. I’ll be forever thankful to each of you.” Letting them finish she stroked their necks and gave a kiss to each of their muzzles, “be good for Master Dennet, I’ll be by later with a treat if you do.” Almost knowingly both gave an excited neigh before she turned, her equipment slung over her shoulder.   
“May I be of aid, your worship?” an Inquisition agent, knelt before her, arm over his chest.  
“Yes, please see these to the armory. My sack is to be returned to my quarters. Please have dinner delivered to the Commander’s office I have paper to go over. Bring a dinner for his as well. Two bottles of wine. Do you understand?” she tried to be iron, tried to be strong and commanding.   
“Of course, your worship. Weapons and equipment to the armory. Sack in your quarters. Dinner for you and the Commander. Two bottles. Right away,” standing he gave a firm nod of his head and bolted off with her stuff.  
“I beg your pardon?” Cullen stood as a servant brought two trays and two bottles of wine into his tower.  
“The Inquisitor was going to check in with Josephine then come to see you. She ordered we deliver dinner for both of you as she planned on getting her paperwork done tonight. She requested two bottles.” Jim placed the bottles at the corner of his desk, “she will be by soon, I’m certain of it Ser.”  
“I’m sorry Inquis… Hyacinth. We are here to advance the goals of the Inquisition and while I appreciate the time to talk with me, I hope you understand that,” Josephine folded her hands across her desk as she looked over at Hyacinth.  
“Yes, I understand that, but you must see things from my perspective, Ambassador,” Hyacinth was nipping back the anger on her lips. “I came from one stone cage, I will not allow anyone to place me in another. I have willingly and freely come to aid the Inquisition in the beginning as the people’s Herald. When the offer to lead came, I took it for the sole purpose of helping others and setting right the views on mages. Now, I fear I have received less than my fair share of compensation for these life-threatening acts. I do hope you understand, this should not be my cage. It should be my home, as I have had no other.” Her hands were trembling and she hoped Josephine didn’t notice as she clenched them tightly in her lap.   
“I can understand and I do agree with you. We are not discouraging your romance with the Commander, not at all. We simply wish you to keep it behind closed doors, and to uphold a more business-like appearance in public. There are many seeking your hand and his. People we may be able to garner useful information from, funds and even secure troops for the fight against Corypheus. I wish there was more I could do, truthfully, but as an ambassador my hands are tied.” Unwavering Josephine let out a long breath of air, her shoulders slightly slumping forwards, “there are things we may be able to do, to work around this. Until Corypheus is dealt with, we require every amount of aid we can acquire.”  
Standing Hyacinth knew she was beat, knew that despite everything she wanted, Josephine was right. Corypheus was still out there, somewhere. Plotting his revenge or trying another angle to secure his goals of sundering the physical Fade. Tipping her head, she tried to smile, “thank you for seeing me at such a late hour. Please, get some rest.” Turning quickly, she didn’t want to hear Josephine’s pleasantries. Didn’t want to hear the litany of how wrong she was and how right Josephine was.   
Cullen sorted the stacks of papers upon his desk into ones that required immediate attention and ones that did not. Running his hand through his hair he tried not to focus on the ache of his body. Spending most of the day concerned about her whereabouts and her safety his muscles were tight.   
“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long,” Hyacinth’s voice was soft and sweet as the door barely made a sound. Carefully securing the latch she crossed the room and pulling the chair closer to the desk she eased herself down into it.   
Taken aback again he quirked his eyebrow up at her, “what… Hyacinth?”  
Chuckling she tore at the wine with her teeth, pulling the cork free she poured two goblets, “I had an awakening of sorts along the road today. Care to hear it? I can’t promise it’ll be short.” Handing him the wine she caught his nod. “I joined Solas in a personal need. I will write my report later. To the meat of it all. I came to realize whether I like it or not, I am here. Here to do good, or bad. That’s my choice, my freedom. With a word people die because of me. With a word people are spared.” Taking a drink from her glass she sighed, the wine feeling safe and familiar, “I may not be free to leave, free to love openly, or free to build my own way. But when, and it will be when, we stop Corypheus, I can have those things. It isn’t a cage. Not like the Circle, nothing like the Circle. This is a roost, a place a bird can come and go from. Perhaps there are some trappings but there is also choice here. I can do good here. And if here is where I am forced to be. Where I am forced to adhere to some written rules, or social laws, then so be it. I shall do the best I can with whatever I have at my disposal.” Plucking a couple roasted hunks of potato up off the tray she laughed, “and the food isn’t half bad.” Popping them into her mouth she sighed. Finishing her mouth full she blushed red, “and I wouldn’t want to stray far from you.”  
Cullen slipped into his chair, a wide grin across his lips, “well then, Inquisitor. To work?”


	23. Planting for the Coming Year

They finished their work and set off to separate rooms. Both too weary to contemplate defying Josephine or Leliana. When morning came, Hyacinth was bombarded with message after message. Sera needed her help with a Red Jenny message. Vivienne required a word about retrieving or having someone retrieve a snowy wyvern heart. Varric claimed to have urgent need to speak with her, about red lyrium. Dagna wanted to meet in the Commander’s office. Cassandra requested a favor. Finally, the man formerly known as Blackwall had arrive in the cloak of darkness and awaited her. Biting her lip, she tried to find a way to please each request. Finishing her breakfast, and the final scrap of paper upon her desk she grumbled. Still nothing on Corypheus. It had been a few months since the Winter Palace and it was as if Corypheus dropped off the face of Thedas. Someone had to have information, somewhere. 

It seemed like they were at a stand still. Awaiting several of Leliana’s best agents and possibly a hint of where the shrewd magister might have decided to take his venture. During that time, there were things needing her approval, needing her time. Heading into the main hall she began her rounds. Having spoken to all the people needing her attention before lunch and now, sitting in her quarters she was deciding the best way to go about the mess before her. Cassandra wanted to find her missing Seeker brethren and Leliana thought she may know of a way to track the elusive order down. Sera spoke of a meeting only a couple hours from Skyhold, an evening meeting with some servant with ‘important information.’ She had said it felt wrong and Hyacinth agreed to accompany her. Vivienne was eager to get her hands on that snowy wyvern’s heart. Even going so far as to hunting down the possible location of several nests. It was dire the heart be as fresh as possible and that it was unmarred. Staring at the maps she noticed a location not far from Skyhold. Perhaps close enough to reach the evening meeting with Sera. Mulling that over she knew she was avoiding her main problem; Thom. 

Reaching for the thick brown glass bottle, her hands shook. It was dire that this was done right, that she minimized the impact on Orlais and yet got what she desperately wanted. Flipping through an old tome on her desk, several dog-eared pages referring to rulings, she found what she wanted. Taking a slow, careful sip, she let the liquor swirl through her body. Feeling the warm bloom and fuel her. This was becoming a problem too. She needed to deal with this, deal with her discomfort and all that was welling up inside of her. First would be the trial. Slamming the book shut, she marched down her steps and all the way to Josephine’s office. Standing before her she stood as tall as she could, “I’m ready. Have Thom Rainier brought to the throne room. I will be awaiting this, event.” She tried to sound firmer than she felt. Tried to be the imposing and fair will of the Inquisition. Seeing Josephine nod to her, she continued her pace to the throne. 

People began to draw in. Whispers and muffled murmurs filled the hall. Trying her best, she sat in the throne chair, stiff backed and arms awkwardly laying upon the splendid hand carved arm rests. Keeping her eyes trained on the main doors, barely visible by the delicate brazier fires and stream of sun coming down upon her. Were she able to see herself, she knew it must have been a sight. Perked upon the throne, the sun cascading down upon her, surely it was the very image of the just Herald of Andraste. Possibly exactly how the original owners designed it to look. Somewhat regal and yet inspiring to those seeking faithful fulfillment and yet terrifying and the picture of power to those being judged. 

Heavy feet entered the main hall, the clear sound of chains being rattled and dragged filtered through and hushed the gawking crowd. Keeping her eyes trained ahead she remembered the passage she’d read. Remembered what she was going to say. Repeating over with the sound of the drag twinkle she avoided licking her lips, even though her mouth had run dry seconds after she emerged from Josephine’s office. 

Josephine herself stood within an arm’s reach from her right side. Her candle danced to the boots and mumbles filling the hall. “Inquisitor Trevelyan now will see before her the man formerly known as Warden Blackwall. Now known to be the treacherous Thom Rainier. His crimes…” her voice cracked and for a moment it appeared as if Josephine might not have the strength to finish her words. Hyacinth looked to her and before she could utter a word, Josephine continued her speech. “He has been charged with treason, abandoning his post, and the murders of Callier, his wife, their four children, retainers, guards and…”

“I know,” Hyacinth shifted slightly, “bring him forward. I take no delight in this,” seeing him in chains, heavy bags under his eyes tore at her. “Will you not speak for yourself?”  
“I made my decision,” he spat not looking up from the floor his vision was trained on. “I was prepared to die, until you….” Shaking his head, he sniffled, “how much blood must I bare…” it wasn’t a question aimed towards her. 

“If you will not defend yourself Bla… Thom Rainier, then the Inquisitor will judge you,” Josephine turned to Hyacinth, a slight glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Resting her elbows on her knees she leaned forwards, hands clasped in prayer, “as the Holy Andraste forgave Mepherath, I would forgive you. My judgement is simple,” peering over her clasped hands she watched Thom’s confused expression. “Freedom.”

Silence fell over the hall, as no one dared speak a word. Thom himself stood nearly straight as a flag pole, “freedom? At what cost? To be shot from the rookery when I try to run?” He let out an angry snort of a laugh as he scanned her face.

“No, nothing of the kind would occur. But freedom does come at a price, one you will pay,” leaning back she caught Josephine’s curious expression from the corner of her eye, “atonement. You must atone for your crime. I will not waste talent, and skill and the want to do better. Your death brings nothing. It does not restore what was taken, nor does it solve the hurt that it caused. No. Instead you will make this right. Atonement, is your sentence.”

Hanging his head as the two guards beside him removed his leg irons and shackles he was unsure what to say. A heaviness seemed to have lifted from him and the room was a blur. Whether people were chatting about what had happened, he cared not. When the last iron fell from his wrist, he rung them sorely in his hands, “if this is your wish then I would ask one boon to be added to my sentence.”

“If it is within my power, I shall grant it,” Hyacinth prayed to the Maker that he wasn’t angry with her. That he didn’t want to run out those doors and leave.   
Stretching out he set his gaze on her, “I wish to remain with the Inquisition. At least till Corypheus is stopped.”

“Ya, what about Corypheus?!” People began to chatter and bustle at the name. 

“People, people,” Josephine’s tone brought people to silence.

“We are awaiting word on his movements. He will not evade us forever. I swear to you he will pay for the injustice of Haven.” Waving her hands in the air, Hyacinth’s calmness seemed to aid in quieting the room. “Now, Thom. I agree to your request. Welcome to the Inquisition, Thom Rainier.”

Rising from her throne she took several steps towards him. Holding her hand out she waited. Waiting for him to either smack it away, turn from her, or Maker knew what. A few moments of tension passed between the two. Thom, unsure if he deserved the right to accept her hand. Hyacinth praying, he would. Finally, Thom took her hand in his and they shook. 

The gathered crowd began to disburse. Slowly returning to their chores and daily requirements. Thom spoke briefly with her. A softly uttered apology before he turned to head out of the main hall and back to his usual dwellings. Hyacinth couldn’t help but let out a long breath of air. She had done it and by the rumblings in the hall, it seemed to have gone over well. 

Having not spoken to Dagna yet she made her way through the lilting crowd and towards Cullen’s tower. Stopping a messenger to inform her she would be awaiting the eager dwarf there. Passing through the rotunda she noticed Solas had yet to return. It had been a day since their conflict to save his friend. One that had ended badly, or so she believed. Sighing at the empty chair she continued through to the outer door. Plodding over the bridge to his tower she pulled the door open, “Dagna has news on… Cullen?”

He was face down upon his desk, a soft purring snore filtering through the room. Shaking her head, she could see the remains of several thick wax candle, all burnt down to stubs. Silently as she could she crept towards him, coming around his desk she laid a warm hand upon his shoulder. He was at least in his armor, so she knew he had slept. When she left his side last night he had on a thin linen shirt and looser linen pants. Seeing the pile of finished papers, and the beginning of an impressive stack of fresh papers, she looked at what he was working on. A map. Putting his inkwell, which was empty, and quill away she tried to maneuver his arm out of her way. Scrunching her face up she tried to figure out what the little dots and blobs marked down meant. Standing tall again, she slipped a healing spell over him. Making sure that whatever woke him wasn’t horrid. 

“Hyacinth…” he moaned as her fingers graced the back of his neck, warm and comforting healing energies spreading through him.

“Enjoy, we don’t have long. Dagna is coming by to discuss her findings,” rubbing the knot sitting at the top if his shoulder just at the base of his neck she smiled to herself, “and Thom’s sentencing went well. I am please with how it went. What, pray tell, has you sleeping at your desk?”

“I think, I have found him,” he slowly opened his eyes. Tugging a glove off he rubbed at them. “I have several reports of moving Venatori, and agents we know work for him. They all seem to be heading in one direction. It will take him a few more months to get all of his people there, but he is moving to the Arbor Wilds.” Slowly sitting up he ran his bare hand through his hair, smoothing away any signs of his mid morning nap. 

“Commander!” Dagna’s voice broke through the door mere seconds before the rest of her followed. Happily bouncing into the room, she held tightly in her hands a glowing, red rune. “I’ve done it! I think, I mean I can’t be completely sure as I don’t have a copy of the man’s armor but…” she looked up and stopped for a moment, “let me start that from the beginning?” Shyly she smiled as she came towards his desk.

Chuckling Hyacinth nodded, slowly walking around the desk to see the rune held firmly in her small hands.

“This. I used Maddox’s tool, some red lyrium and other things you don’t care to know,” chuckling she held out the palm sized circle, “simply use this near Samson and his armor, and it should render it useless. I’m not exactly sure what will happen but I’m almost sure it’ll take all the power and sparkle out of his suit.” 

“Thank you Dagna, this will make a very big difference.” Hyacinth placed the rune in her pouch. Looking up she watched as the dwarven girl scampered out of the tower. Turning back to Cullen she grinned, “guess she’s onto her next project. Today is looking like a good day.”

He was back staring at the smaller map, checking and double-checking papers as he went. “Yes, quite.” He barely peeked up.

Slightly annoyed Hyacinth knew he was right to continue his work. Were he to be on the verge of discovering where Corypheus intended to go, they could begin to figure out why and then stop him. “I’ll pass this on to Leliana, I’m sure she’ll want to come see for herself. Perhaps I’ll see more of you later this evening?” Her voice was soft and sweet as she twiddled her fingers behind her back, rocking on her toes like a little girl.

“Of course,” he grinned up at her, his eyes twinkling, “I look forward to it.”

Cullen spent the rest of the day between maps and the war room. Finally piecing everything together he slapped the table, “got you!” Taking the papers in his hand he pushed the door open to Josephine’s office, “ambassador! I have him!” 

Hyacinth spent her time tending to several issues, travelling with Sera and Vivienne. Her head spinning and by the time she walked through the gates all she wanted to do was soak in her tub and fall asleep. “Inquisitor,” a soft voice spoke from behind her, in turning to face it she was excited to see Solas. “You came back!” She squealed racing forward to hug the weary elf.

Allowing her to embrace him, he awkwardly returned the hug, “I required some time to myself. I, thank you for your aid.”

“I was so worried you would not return!” Hyacinth leaned back a bright smile upon her lips, “we have news. Commander Cullen is certain he has learned where Corypheus intends to strike next.”

A soft sigh escaped Solas’s lips, “then it is best I arrived back when I did. May I ask one final request of you?”

“Of course, Solas!” 

“If we could recover the elven artifact, in tact…”

“We shall try our best, Solas. I swear to you.” Hyacinth walked Solas back to his rotunda, and spoke with him quietly for a short time before retiring for the evening. 

Walking up the steps to her room she heard the door click open behind her. Peering over her shoulder she could see Cullen’s bear fur mantle come up the steps. Turning she waited, “Cullen?”

“OH!” He nearly bumped right into her as he crested the last step on the landing, “I… well… uh…” Reaching up he rubbed at his neck, forcing himself to think on why he had come barging up the steps in the first place. “Right! We found him! We know where he’s going, and in speaking with Lady Morrigan she believes he is searching for another ancient Elven artifact. It will take some time to move our army and ally’s army to the Arbor Wilds.”

Standing awkwardly on the step above him she nodded, “then we do what we must. I am assuming you wish to gather a council at this hour?” 

“No, no,” he shook his head, “Leliana, Josephine and I have already met and discussed time frames as well as supplies. There isn’t much for you to do as of yet. We have to be prepared to march before you can give the order to march. I came to inform you and… uh… “

“Come upstairs,” Hyacinth giggled as they ascended towards her quarters. 

By morning the Keep was a buzz of activity. Hyacinth could barely navigate the main hall with the constant flood of people moving in and out. Soldiers training in the yard, servants packing and Cullen barking orders. Cassandra pulled her aside with the news that a raven had brought the possible location of the Seekers of Truth. Selecting a small party, they set off to the property of Bann Loren. 

Cullen’s head throbbed mercilessly, so much so it nearly blinded his vision. He blinked hard as he reached up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Trying to see the words on the parchment before him her growled. A list of things needing to be attended to before they could make way to the Arbor Wilds. A messenger informed him quickly the Inquisitor and a small party had ventured off and would return within the week. There wasn’t much he could do about it and he waved the messenger off. He needed to get the recruits up to steel within a few days, and some were grating on his nerves. Looking up at the group of men, aimlessly slapping away at each other with their practice gear he growled, “pay attention! This isn’t the farm! If we encounter the red templars they will not talk you to death. Put your back into it!”

Wading nearly knee deep in icy cold water, Hyacinth grumbled, as they moved through the Bann’s estate, “this doesn’t make any sense! Why are their red templars here? Where is the Bann’s people?”

“Your guess is as good as mine Bumbles,” Varric snorted as he held Bianca over his head. Luckily for him, Bull scooped him up and carried him through the watery mess of the cellar. “Thanks, Tiny.”

Chuckling Bull set him down upon the steps, “don’t mention it.” Slamming his thick palm across the bolt, he shoved the door open, “these assholes are everywhere. Seeker, what do you know of these guys?”

Bending over a body, she poked about, “Promisers. I should have known. We must hurry. If there is any hope of finding any of my brothers and sisters here.”

Cassandra set a punishing pace as she pushed them through the sprawling building. Room after room, she made sure each were checked over thoroughly. By the time they stumbled into the back half of the building they had thought they’d seen the full extent of the horror. It was Cassandra who recognized the grunting, ashen face of the boy laying at the foot of a long, broken stairway leading to the courtyard outside. 

“Daniel!” Cassandra called out as she dropped to her knees before the hunched over man. 

Hyacinth rushed towards them, not paying much mind to their conversation she began to ply her magic into the lad. It was cloudy and as she closed her eyes she felt it claw at her. Something swirling in a murky pool just out of reach. Focusing tighter she could see it more clearly, it’s bared fangs and ghostly face snarled up at her. Shrieking she flew back from the boy.

“I told you,” he fought to keep his voice steady, “they put it inside me. I… I’m dying, its tearing me apart inside.”

Cassandra’s eyes were dancing, glistening with tears too much pride refused to release. Hyacinth stumbled to her knees and simply nodded back to the woman. “Then it is true. Daniel… I… I should have taken you with me. Neither of us agreed with this war.”

Laughing he spat out a glob of black mucus, “you know I always did want that promotion.”

Touching his face Cassandra’s shoulders slumped forward, “I’ll make him pay for this. The Lord Seeker will answer for what he has done here. Done to you.”

“Don’t… don’t leave me like this,” his hand shot out and gripped hers impossibly tight as he bared his black stained teeth, “please, I don’t want to be one of them.”

Hyacinth went to say something, wanted to say she could help but the words clung to her throat. Varric and Bull helping her up and pulling her away. She lost sense of what they were talking about. Only seeing Cassandra muttering lips move as she clenched the boys hand in hers. Then she calmly rose and drew her sword. Hyacinth’s eyes grew wide as she watched Cassandra swing hard and remove the man’s head in one fluid motion. Hyacinth bit her bottom lip hard, holding in the scream she wanted so desperately to fill the room with. 

“Come, we must find the Lord Seeker,” Cassandra flicked the blood off her blade as she stormed up the steps towards the light of day, just breaking through the double doors. Hyacinth, Varric and Bull raced to keep up with her. Water dripping down from the cave like ceiling echoed through the room, as they trotted towards the door leading up and out into the open fresh air. 

Fresh air Hyacinth needed desperately. Reaching the top of the stairs just behind Cassandra she caught the sight of the woman standing in a fighter’s stance, her voice harsh as she spoke. Coming just behind her she could see red templars. Archers by two hedges a hundred feet back caught and held her attention. They hadn’t yet knocked their bows, but she had no urge to feel their barbed arrows pierce her side. Keeping her staff tightly in her hands she began to pull softly upon the arcane energies and pour them into her staff. The barrier would be ready well before they could get their arrows loose. 

“Cassandra, we deserve to be destroyed. We are abominations!”

“I don’t believe you! Even if what you say is true, aiding Corypheus in his efforts will destroy the world! We must be better than that!” Her knuckles were gripping the hilt so tightly she could hear the metal of her knuckle bracers grinding against each other. 

Pulling a thick tome from his back pouch he threw it towards Cassandra’s feet. “It’s all here Cassandra, all of it. Join me! Join us in bringing the world to ash so we may start again.”

Growling she levied her shield, “for the Seekers!” 

Hyacinth cast her barrier quickly as Varric began his assault. Crossbow bolts sinking deeply into their throats, bright, glowing crimson pouring down their armor as they choked and flopped over. “Aid the Seeker!” Varric yelled, Bull already off to watch her back, taking on two warriors. 

Hyacinth pulled her spirit blade and charged in, striking out against those trying to cut Cassandra down. “Don’t give in, we have this!” She yelled out at they cut through their enemies, leaving Cassandra to take on Lord Seeker Lucius alone. 

He was outclassed by her skill and will. She was relentless and dug into him with an energy she had not felt since she was young. Swords clashed, shields bashing off each other before finally she managed to get around his failing defensives. Slicing his shoulder, he dropped his sword. Slamming repeatedly against his shield she could see the fear rising up in the man’s eyes. With a loud grunt she kicked out as his knee, just poking out from the shield. Bone snapping, and a blood curdling scream ripped through the air. As he fell she stabbed down, straight to the point. 

Hyacinth stopped in her tracks, the threat past, watching Cassandra wipe her blade on the dead man’s clock before kicking at his corpse. “Are you….”

Cassandra stalked over, picked up the book and with a firm thrust of her hand motioned everyone to follow her, “there is nothing more for me here.”

Cullen blinked again as he yawned, “have Rylen’s men search again, I want an account of each patrol. Times, sightings and if at all possible, catch them!” Dismissing the group of soldiers around him, he barely held himself upright till the door to his tower closed. Collapsing down into his chair he rested his neck over the backrest. Closing his eyes for a moment he regretted not having slept the night before. His stomach was rolling and his head pounding. If Hyacinth caught him now, he was certain she might scold him mercilessly. Blindly reaching for the top drawer of his desk, he fumbled for one of her potions. His fingers clumsily found the familiar stopped and he pinched in, pulling the bottle up. 

After the pain between his eyes settled he had made his way down to the tavern. Cabot gave him a wave as he entered and within a moment of sitting down he had a fresh bowl of stew and near overflowing stein sat before him. “Thank you,” he said with a questioning glance to the server. She simply bowed and quickly walked away.

“Hyacinth does make sure her bases are covered,” Dorian chuckled as he strolled over and sat beside Cullen. “She knew you’d forget dinner. Cabot was instructed to bring you food and drink the moment you took your seat. She paid him quite the tidy sum to do it to.”

Taking a swig of his ale, he chuckled, “let me guess, you are to keep an eye on my well being as well? Does she have no faith in her Commander?”

“Your skill, yes. Your ability to train, lead and work with her people, yes. Taking care of your own needs, not even slightly.” Poured himself another drink from his demijohn of wine, he chuckled. 

Grunting he tore at the half loaf of bread sitting upon the tray. Dipping it into the stew he sighed, “I try.”

“Not even a little,” Dorian snickered, “have you seen your face Commander? She’s been gone four days, and should return in two more and you have grown nearly a full beard. Unheard of from our, usually well put together Commander.” 

Running his hand over his face he nearly snorted, “I… Perhaps I have been overly involved in preparing. I shall attend to my… face, later.” His hunger finally got the best of him as he worked at the stew.

Dorian sat quietly for a time, just watching out over the tavern as people came and went. Meals and drinks being served, and plates being collected. He finished his wine and watched as Cullen scraped up the last dregs of his bowl with the last bit of his bread. “Feel better now? The evening is late, you should retire. Things will be there when you wake and will be easier to tackle with a clear head.”

“You going to follow me to bed too?” Cullen immediately regretted the words that came out of his mouth, “Maker’s breath.”

Bursting into a fit of laughter Dorian grinned, “now isn’t that an idea.” Patting Cullen’s forearm he shook his head, “no, I am going to retire for the evening. Our dear ambassador has me working on a small project. I believe she is expecting an answer soon, and I shall have them.” Rising he tossed a couple coins on the table, “rest well Commander, enjoy your bed while you can. I’m sure we shall be marching sooner than later.”

As Dorian left Cullen had to admit to himself that it would be highly likely they would begin to march soon. His eyes felt heavy, his belly full. Standing up he took his leisure time, strolling up the stone steps towards his tower. It was already very dark as the moon hung high in the sky above the white caps of the Frostback Mountain. 

It was a couple more days before Hyacinth walked across the threshold of the main gates. Cassandra had pushed them hard to get back, a woman possessed by the need to put distance between herself and Bann Loren’s lands. Hyacinth bid everyone a hasty goodbye before she rushed to her quarters. The crawling feeling that they would be marching soon, was nipping at the base of her neck. She wasn’t going to start marching with an army until she had at least enjoyed a soak. One of the few things she wanted before they rushed off to potential death. Slipping into her room with a speed and skill she hadn’t thought she would have, she began preparing for her bath. 

“Our allies must march ahead of us. We are the closest to the Arbor Wilds. Leliana, have your people been able to get in close enough to lend us any information?” Cullen scanned over the war room table, trying to remain as professional as he could. Hyacinth’s presence causing him to lose focus. 

“Yes, I have reports of Venatori, and red templars. There also seems to be another presence we hadn’t counted on. An odd group of elves that come nearly out of nowhere and attack mercilessly. Scout Harding has set up on the edge of the forest. We have people preparing to receive our forces and our allies. As soon as you are ready, Inquisitor, we should inform them to march and follow no later than a week after.” Leliana laid out several markers as she spoke to indicate where this was happening. 

Hyacinth nodded, “inform our allies, once word is returned, we march. Lady Morrigan, showed me the eluvian and if it truly is the thing he is after we must get to this temple as quickly as we can. I fear what may happen if we do not. Have there been any sightings of Corypheus himself?” Leaning over the map she just caught Cullen’s dreamy look as he watched her over the letter he was feigning reading. 

“Nothing yet, Inquisitor.” Leliana smiled, nudging Josephine as she walked around to pick up another letter from the edge of the table. 

“Is there anything of importance you wish to speak about Commander? I believe we are finished here.” Josephine held in her snicker as she watched him jump.

“No, uh… I mean, I have nothing further to discuss.” Dropping the letter on the table he tried to ease himself into a comfortable stance, to appear more relaxed than he felt.   
Seeing his awkward movement, Hyacinth looked to end the meeting quickly, “then we’re done here. Ladies you have your work cut out for you, Commander, I assume the troops will be prepared in a few days. Alert me to any changes. Good evening,” turning she didn’t bother to wait for anyone or anything. He would find her and in the end, she knew what the absence meant to him, did to him. 

There was constant work to do. Constant meetings with Leliana, Josephine and even Cullen as this ally sent word, that scout reported more movement and Cullen had the troops ready for her inspection. What little of an inspection a Circle mage can give to a group of armored men. Simply smiling and giving her blessing appeared to be enough. It seemed to elevate the mood of the men into a hardened resolve.

Marching to the Wild was an effort. More so than it had been to Adamant. It was hot, humid and no matter what they did, their march was slow. Having left at the perfect time they did manage to arrive before their allies, by one day. Hyacinth was nervous as her councillors busied themselves with preparations and the immediate work. Doing her best to stay out of the way, she retired to her tent. Working on gathering herbs from the local flora, which was impressively bountiful. It was something to do, something that kept her busy and her mind off what was to come. Spending the first two days hard at work she mixed and brewed potions, tending to any wounded that came in. When finally, the bulk of the armies showed up she was ready. As ready as she could have been to face the obstacles ahead of her. 

Morrigan offered to go with her, and Hyacinth was beyond relieved. Morrigan’s knowledge of the ancient Elven was impressive and even through the curt snorts from Solas she could tell he appreciated her understanding. Tramping through the tropical underbrush they were rushing towards the temple, buried by years of overgrowth. As they rushed, they encountered all of Corypheus’s corrupt followers. It tore at her heart to cut down the few Grey Warden’s still ensnared in his evil ritual. 

Closing in on the temple, the statues and broken remnants of the once impressive building lay scattered before them. She’d heard him. Heard the roar of the red templars and the heavy clanging of metal upon metal. Turning from her rush she finally caught sight of him, for only a moment. Back in camp she had heard he was in the field. Fighting waist deep with his men, and that he had only stumbled back to rest in a chair while someone sharpened the edge of his sword. Once it was prepared he drank down a skin of water and rushed back to the fray. There he was, his familiar bear fur mantle, matted to him as he cut down another templar. 

There was nothing Hyacinth could do as she rushed towards the building. Praying with everything she had inside of her that they would both come out of this unscathed. Gripping her staff firmly she followed Solas’s lead into the temple.


	24. Preparing for the Next Blossoms

Hyacinth clung to the wall, breathing heavily, “did… was he… did…”  
“Yes, it would appear Corypheus can move through the taint to another blighted creature.” Morrigan huffed out as they all struggled to catch their breathes.  
“I’m sure there will be a way to stop him. Right now, we must proceed forward and prevent him from obtaining the artifact,” Solas steadied himself with his staff, “the door is sealed magically behind us. For the moment we have time. Not as much as we’d like but we have time.”  
She had watched as ancient elven wards liquified his body. Whatever the artifact was, it had exploded once it had used up it’s energy. Sending several of the odd elves across a bridge. Going at a slow pace they hadn’t really given much thought about what had happened, until they heard the gurgling from the corpse of a nearby dead Grey Warden.   
Hyacinth had seen it first, the claw like fingers of Corypheus sprout from the bloody gore. Morrigan’s hand tugging at her arm broke her moment of shock and they raced for the open doors across the bridge. Nearly across the bridge, they’d all heard it. The dragon. It’s breath of fiery red lyrium, peppered the door as it closed behind them, barely in time.   
Now, everyone in shock began pushing forward, Morrigan and Solas agreeing on some ancient elven trial. It bothered her to see Samson and his red templars break through a crater in the ground and race off. It bothered Thom as well, but Solas argued hard that this was the best way to proceed. Trusting his advice, she went along, completing a simple ritual only know as the petitioner’s path. Going through the now opened door, they entered some from of ceremonial arena. Balconies overlooking a pool of fresh water, two doors on the ends leading to unknown places. 

It was as if time had stood still in the room. No dust, no sign of decay. Everything as it may have been centuries ago. Yet, something didn’t feel right. Something causing a slow creeping sense of impending dread to tickle the hairs at the base of her neck, “we’re being watch,” Thom echoed her sentiment as they stood before the glimmering pool of water.

“You shall go no further, intruder,” it was the same elf they had seen from the bridge. And a quick peek over her shoulder confirmed her sneaking feeling. Archers, lined nearly from wall to wall, bows taut with arrows pointed at them. Swallowing hard she tried to gather her strength, “we mean no disrespect, no harm. We are here to stop Corypheus. He wishes to defile this place.”

Touching his chin behind his hood, the silence was long and tense. Waving his hand, he said something in elven, and the archers dropped their bows, arrows still knocked. “I believe you. You may call me Abelas. We have been watching, and you show respect for Mythal. You have taken the rights. We will hear what you have to say.”

Solas gave her a subtle nod and she spoke as clearly as she could, “we ask you allow us to pursue and stop Corypheus and his followers. Once we have accomplished that we will leave. We will disturb nothing.” She prayed the sincerity spoke through as she felt the tension begin to ebb just a touch. His motions slowed, and he turned, speaking to someone just out of view. Completing his conversation, he returned to her, “agreed. You shall be escorted to your target then, once you have defeated them you will leave. The Well of Sorrows is not for your hands to defile and I will see its destruction if need be.”

“NO!” cried Morrigan as she transformed into a crow, flying up by Abelas she gave chase. 

There wasn’t much else for them to do as a female warrior carrying a heavy looking tome motioned for them to follow. Speaking in the ancient elven tongue. Solas translated as best he could that she would show them the way forward. 

“That ritual, it saved our hides,” Thom finally let out the held breath when they began trekking through the back passageways of the temple.

“Indeed,” Solas snarked as he chatted softly to the woman, “follow, the fighting is up ahead. They are holding off the enemy as best they can.”

Corridor after hidden corridor, snippets of their culture preserved in near perfection. Hidden from sight. Hyacinth could spend and wanted to spend the rest of her life sorting through the images, the tomes, translating the works and restoring the lost history. She was snapped from her thought when the door opened into an anti-chamber, fighting between the elves and the red templars breaking into view. Hurrying to aid the elves they pushed them back, breaking the red templars blocking them. 

Retreating back into the temple the elves mumbled something to them and Solas translated, “through those doors, we’ll find our enemy. Quickly, we have wasted too much time.”

Racing out the door, she caught sight of Samson and his small group of red templars, as they extinguished the life of the last of the elven guardians. Hyacinth felt anger bubble up as she raced down the stone steps towards them, “Samson!” she yelled without reserve, the rune still tucked in her pouch.

“Here I thought you might not make it. So sorry I missed you at the Shrine, had some important work to do,” he gloated as another red templar came to stand beside him, the expression empty and his eyes vacant.

“I’m here now Samson,” lacing her fingers into the pouch she gripped the rune, ready to use it. “What you have done is unspeakable! Corypheus is going to destroy the world, we must stop him!”

Shaking his head, he looked over his shoulder at the tree blocking their path, “he will be the God the people need. He will make it all worth something.”

“It’s worth what you put into it Samson,” Hyacinth could see the pain in his eyes, a similar look Cullen had given her many times in the past. “This doesn’t have to end this way.”

“No! I am his vessel, I will drink from the Well and he will know all.” Samson drew his sword, “and I will make up for Florianne’s mistake.”

Pulling the rune out she held it up, “I’m sorry you see it this way.” Channeling a bit of energy into it, she could feel the swirl of mana as it burst around Samson. His armor snapped and crackled as the rune’s glow intensified then started to smoke. Dropping the rune, she could see the pieces of Samson’s armor begin to fall off him, the usual pulse of red lyrium now inert. “Now!” Charging forward they began to beat back the red templars trying to protect him. 

As he tried to rise she swung her staff around and clubbed him over the head. “Cullen will feel better dealing with you himself,” she grunted before lancing another templar through the gut. There was a twisting feeling, the magic around them altering something massive. Looking behind them, she could see the tree that had blocked their path shift and move. A staircase appearing from the wood. Morrigan and Abelas racing up the steps before them. Hyacinth didn’t think twice, just gave chase. As they reached the top Morrigan held her staff warding off Abelas, “he was going to destroy it!”

“Destroy what? I don’t understand,” Hyacinth gasped trying to catch her break.

Morrigan thrust her staff forward until Abelas backed down, “this well, behind us. It is the collective knowledge of their people. Centuries and eons of knowledge passed on. Perhaps a way to stop Corypheus, destroy him for good, lies in that water.”

Abelas remained calm and quiet, letting her finish. “It isn’t just knowledge. It’s the living knowledge of all who ever passed through this temple. And we serve it still, bound to Mythal as we are.”

Hyacinth could feel it. It was hungry, and it called to her, a soft hum of promise, a whisper she needed to hear. Trying to focus she was lost to the sound as Morrigan and Abelas argued. Solas grabbed her arm, “please, do not drink from the well, anyone but you.” He had a look of desperation in his eyes and she knew not why, but it snapped her from the trance. Turning back to face Abelas she shook her head, “I will not desecrate sacred ground. I humbly ask that we can use the Well’s knowledge, in order to stop Corypheus, prevent the end of the world.”

Unmoved Abelas shook his head, “it is not up to me to decide if you are worthy, that is Mythal’s rite. Know this. The one who drinks from that Well will be forever bound to Mythal. Bound as we are.” Turning his back, he let a weak chuckle from his throat, “may she be as kind in her judgement as you have been.”

Morrigan apologized, “I’m sorry I did not inform you sooner. But I was right about the eluvian,” pointing behind the pool it stood, unmoved. Possibly from the moment it was originally placed their centuries ago. “Please, let me drink from the Well. If something ill befalls me, I am prepared for the consequences.”

Solas’s hand on her arm kept her from the call of the water, “do it, quickly. We don’t know when Corypheus may appear.” 

Morrigan entered the pool, dipping her hand into the water she drank. No sooner had the cool liquid touched her lips, did the pool flow over her and knock her down. The water disappeared into nothingness and left Morrigan unconscious upon the decorative tiles. Hyacinth was first into the pool. Grapping Morrigan’s head as the woman slowly came around, “are you alright? Morrigan say something!”

“Tel… tel…. abelas… Ir…” she was stumbling and speaking in elven before she managed to regain control, “I am… I will be alright, it is a lot to take in. We…” 

Slamming doors caught their attention and an unworldly howl, “we need to go!” Thom shouted.

“The eluvian, quickly!” Morrigan stretched out and the eluvian came to life. Pushing everyone through Morrigan slammed the magic shut on her end, just as Corypheus appeared at the edge of the pool.

Cullen yawned wide as the nurse stitched his shoulder, “forgive me, I did not mean to offend.”

“Have no worries love, nearly done,” the woman was pleasantly chipper for having tended wounds from dawn till dusk. Still many more wounded coming in. “Get some rest dear, won’t heal too well if you don’t.”

Taking his mantle in his hand he gave her a smile and ducked out of the tent.

“Just a little scratch,” he tried to chuckle off as Josephine’s face blanched, “Ambassador, I am fi…”

“To bed with you, right away!” She stood holding his tent flap open. “We leave for Skyhold at day break. I have received word the Inquisitor and their party arrived back at Skyhold by the eluvian, just narrowly escaping Corypheus. She awaits our return. That means you as well.”

Blushing brightly, he nodded. There was no fighting her when she was in this mood and it was best he just went along. “Of course, ambassador, we shall leave at day break. Will we be riding or…”

“Couch. Fresh horses will be swapped out at key spots. We can make the journey in three days. By that time, we will have a better understanding of what to expect. And we take with us our prisoner. He may hold valuable information.” Jotting down a letter upon her board she quickly whistled, and a raven came to her. Stashing the letter upon the birds back she whispered to it and let it fly. 

Hyacinth was a mess as she paced aimlessly throughout the Keep. She had gotten word to Josephine, and she had returned her message, but nothing had mentioned Cullen’s well being. Only that he received a wound. Varric did his best to occupy her time, but nothing was working. With every spare moment all she could imagine was terrible things. Praying each new image was nothing but a trick of the mind. 

Meanwhile Morrigan tried to calm the voices in her head and focus on finding Corypheus’s weakness. Something that was increasingly difficult as the voices talked over one another and occasionally she would slip into the elven tongue. Three days, the letter had said. For three days she was a walking disaster. 

“Come on now Bumbles, we gotta think about what Corypheus is going to do now that you’ve beaten him at every turn. He’s got to be sick of getting his ass kicked by now.”

“Perhaps. What do you… I mean if you were in his position what would you do?” Hyacinth swirled the dark liquor in her mug, trying not to think more on Cullen for the moment.  
Chuckling Varric cut the cards and began dealing, “me? Bumbles, I’m not an egotistical magister darkspawn with a flare for the elaborate. But say I was, well, that’s different. I’d go lick my wounds for a bit. Maybe think over my whole life goals, then who knows.”

“Attack, he means to not startle you, but he means the Elder One will attack soon,” Cole stared straight ahead at the cards. 

“Geez, good way to put a damper on things Kid,” Varric finished dealing, tossed a few coppers into the pot. “Three coppers starting, we’re playing for fun Bull.”

Snorting Bull tossed his coins in, “fine, but only because this is different.”

They played on, until the drinks were had, and Hyacinth was happily tipsy. “Thank you everyone, I needed this.”

“Far more fun than listening to Morrigan slur her words and ramble to herself in elven,” Bull chuckled, “speaking of Morrigan, have you seen her?”

“No, not yet,” Hyacinth pouted, “my people will be back soon, perhaps I should go before they get here and I have to play all Inquisitor.” Rising she half stumbled, everyone breaking into laughter, “keep playing, I’ll be back soon!” 

Heading out of the tavern she made her way to the garden’s where Morrigan was known to work, and work rather loudly. As she approached Mother Gisele came running towards her, “hurry, you must hurry! Morrigan cried that I find you and tell you she went into the eluvian!”

Apologizing as she ran, she burst past Mother Gisele and straight into the room Morrigan kept the mirror. Seeing it shimmering and bright she didn’t hesitate, jumping inside.  
Cullen grunted as Leliana peeled the bandage from his shoulder, “Maker! It stings!”

“Hush, baby,” Leliana chided as she managed to get the last of the clothe away, “there.” Digging through a bag she pulled fresh clothe and water. Soaking some of the clothe she began cleaning the wound, “those stitches need to come out Commander.”

“Not in a rocking couch they do not!” He roared as she pinned him to the seat.

“Josie, give me a hand,” sitting a top of him Josephine tapped three times on the couch wall, and in a moment, it came to a slow stop. “Thank you!” Taking a knife out of bag she gave him a look, “Maker, please, hold still.”

Grunting Cullen didn’t have much of a choice. Her warm hands peeled back the linen shirt from the wound and in a moment, he could feel the gentle tug as she pulled the stitching free. Gritting his teeth, he heard her humming a song, softly upon her lips. “You plot to torture me, while humming Orlesian ballads?”

Giggling she tugged another stitch free, dabbing at the blood with the clothe, “it helps me to focus and it is a good thing I have steady hands Commander. The nurse who stitched this did a fine job, it will not scar much.”

“Maker forbid I gain another scar,” he scoffed as he tried to stare at something, anything but the blood on the clothe and the blood, his blood, on her hands. It was numb, something had numbed it, he was sure. Peering out the window he could see Skyhold in the distance, about an hour or two ride. Growling he wanted to move, damn his shoulder! What if Corypheus attacked Skyhold while he was away, while the army was away! No, they needed to hurry.

“Commander, we will arrive soon and as you can see it is still standing. Maker, I hope the nobles there are still standing,” Josephine sighed as she passed Leliana a green jar.   
“You two make a habit of patching up wounded men in carriages?” he tried to jest only to feel a burning sensation bloom from the wound. Grunting hard he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Last stitch, always the worst part and longest. I apologize,” Leliana took the jar and smeared some of its contents on the clothe before re-wrapping his shoulder. “There, good as new.”

“Can we move now?” Cullen gritted between his teeth as he held the bandage against the wound. He could feel the elfroot balm knitting the skin where the stitches were removed back together. “Before it is dark, I mean.”

Appearing back out of the eluvian Morrigan with her, Hyacinth was white as a ghost. “Your mother is… Mythal!?”

“I am still trying to process it all myself,” Morrigan snorted closing the magic of the eluvian, “but I know how to stop him. Maker be praised for some things I suppose.”  
“Write it down, and leave it on Josephine’s desk. I… I need a drink.”

“Tis I who am bound to her for all eternity. I daresay, I require the drink more than you. You should check if the others have returned. I feel we won’t have much time before Corypheus acts.” Morrigan quickly paced out of the room and around the corner to her section of the garden. 

Hyacinth took her time as she walked through the garden, back towards the main hall. Tired and dizzy she made a bee line for her room. A solid sleep would fix everything and if her council arrived soon, they could use rest as well. Shrugging off her clothes and flopping into bed, she didn’t give any of the weeks events a second though. Too concerned for the nightmares they would bring. Curling up into a ball under her covers she quickly slipped into a dreamless sleep. 

It wasn’t the suns rays that woke her come morning, nor the slow subtle drag from the fade. No, it was the feel of someone caressing her face, feather weight, tender touches that caused her to stir. Mumbling with a cotton mouth she lazily opened her eyes, “Cullen,” she smiled seeing his bright copper eyes lovingly watching her.

“I thought I’d come see you before we start the day. It’s been a long journey.” Reaching up he rubbed at his neck, letting a weak whimper out as he switched arms. 

Hyacinth nearly shot out of bed, “what happened? Have you been hurt? Please, let me see it!” She was pawing at the collar of his shirt before he could move. Tugging the material back to expose the bandage upon his shoulder, “is this it? Please, by the Maker tell me this is it.”

“Other than some sore muscles and near insatiable appetite, then yes. This is it.” It always amused him how quickly she could go from dead asleep to instant reaction. Helping her to tug the shirt over his head he was glad he hadn’t put his armor on yet. The sun was just beginning to come up and he would have time before they all met at the war table.   
Running her finger tips over the bandage she huffed, her eyes closed as her magic flowed, “at least the nurse did a good job with the original stitching. You waited too long to remove them. Leliana’s work I have no doubt.”

“How… how did you….”

“Tears in the muscle, very small but still there. They tell me you struggled against the person who removed the stitches. Since you have been with no one else, and I can’t imagine our ambassador having the stomach to do it, it was natural I say Leliana.” Peeling the clothe away she could run her fingers over the wound, only a few days healed. “No infections, yet the skin is resisting the urge to knit. I can fix that. No major injuries underneath. Some muscle was sliced, but it’s already beginning to come together. A little push and you will be sword ready in a day or two. No sooner!”

He let out a soft purr as he closed his eyes, perched beside her on the bed. Her magic was different, so much more different then the other healers he’d met. It was warm and inviting. It was safe and secure as it flowed through him. Each pulse pulling and pushing the damaged skin and muscle into place. He could feel her dig deeper, healing the soreness and aches from his body. Easing the pressure from his shoulders as she worked. “You do too much, save your strength.” 

“Nonsense,” she huffed before finishing. Opening her eyes, she pulled the bandaging free, taking a moment to run her fingers over the pale pink mark, “I am sorry. It has already started to heal, and I cannot remove the scar.”

Chuckling he sighed, “another to add to the group. Makes no matter to me. If you are done, I was hoping to have breakfast with you. Before the world falls apart,” smiling he held his hand out to her.

“Pray allow me to dress first,” she giggled back. 

Their day started no different than it had the last year they had been working and fighting, living and dying to end the threat that was Corypheus. Finishing breakfast together in his tower, she watched him shave and dress. Helping him get his breast plate on, his arm still stiff she buckled the straps for him. Together they made their way into the main keep. Strolling through Josephine’s office Hyacinth told her to get Leliana and Morrigan. 

When everyone was together, Morrigan went over her plans. “The Well has spoken to me and told me of a way to defeat Corypheus. His dragon is the key. He has invested a piece of himself in the creature, sever the link and he will once again be mortal.”

“A dragon, just slay a red lyrium fire breathing dragon,” Cullen sputtered, bracing himself against the table, “you have to be joking.”

“No.” Morrigan stood firm, her hands on her hips, “and I believe I can match his dragon’s skill.”

Cullen’s head was swimming as he tried to rationalize the idea that the mage before him could even think about whatever she was saying, “I… I don’t believe I follow.”

Chuckling Morrigan smiled widely, “no I doubt you would, Templar. It is simple, for those trained in it. Transformative magics. I will assume the form of a dragon, and face his dragon. While I tend to that problem, I assume you will handle the rest.”

“This is all well and good, but doesn’t it seem like….” He was abruptly cut off as the ground began to tremble and move. Everyone scrambled towards the window. Cullen was first to throw it wide and they all stood in horror as green light burst from the ground and back up into the scar of the Breach. 

“He’s reopening the Breach!” Hyacinth screamed.

‘Inquisitor, you were wondering when he would strike. I believe that is now,” Morrigan touched her shoulder. “I am prepared. We should leave.”

Cullen’s mouth ran dry as he watched Hyacinth turn, “gather Thom, Bull, Dorian… get them all! We go as soon as I have my gear.” He watched her storm out the doors slamming it hard behind her. His hands couldn’t stop shaking. His knees buckled and had he not caught the edge of the table he would have fallen to his knees. 

“Commander… Cullen…” Leliana’s usual harsh tone was soft, sweet and tender. Her hands touched his forehead, patting at the sweat beginning to slick his skin. “We must have faith in the Maker’s will.”

It wasn’t enough. The words weren’t enough. His shoulder throbbed as he tried to move it, willing it to work. Maker please let me follow, he pleaded as he tried to stand tall. Nothing would move, nothing would cooperate. Everything stood still as the sound of hooves pattering across the bridge filled the eerie silence. She was off to face him, off to end this. 

After several long moments he felt the ground tremble around him again. Harder now, forcing him to his knees. Getting his hands underneath himself, he was able to stand. He knew he’d get a better look from the battlements. Wobbling through the tremors he pushed through Josephine’s office and out into the main courtyard. Breaking into a full run he could see the swirling glow of green in the distance towards the remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. 

Cresting the top of the steps he nearly fell again. There in the sky, the broken bits of towers, and land floated high above the ground. She was up there. She was facing him. Morrigan’s dragon was circling around, chasing and being chased by Corypheus’s dragon. His knuckle flew into his mouth as he stood braced against the wall. He wanted to scream, wanted to move, wanted to be anywhere but where he was. Powerless to send aid, as the army was still at the least two weeks away. 

“Cassandra, watch out!” Hyacinth yelled as she cast out a barrier around the woman.

“Morrigan’s down, the dragon’s our problem now!” Bull shouted charging in. 

While it was wounded, it wasn’t safe, and Cassandra flew up beside him. Hyacinth was trying to focus, she was tired, and blood was seeping from a cut upon her brow. A jagged rock had come by her and nicked her forehead as Corypheus rose the platform up into the air. She was stretching herself thin, trying to cast barriers on those closest to the dragon as her warrior squad mates rushed into to hack at the beast. Dorian, Solas, and Vivienne working with her to heal and defend. 

Leliana laid a hand on his shoulder, “she’ll be alright. She has all of her companions with her.” 

He had been pacing back and forth, his eyes locked on the floating island. And he had nearly stumbled when Morrigan’s dragon form fell from the sky. “They… the dragon has not been killed…”

“It will be soon. Lady Cassandra’s family lineage specializes in dragons. Do not forget Bull will be beside himself to finish a dragon.” Chuckling Leliana handing him a small flask. “Drink, if you don’t calm down soon you’ll reinjure that shoulder. Then what will we do when we bandage you tightly at the party.”

“Party…” he was stunned as she pushed the flask into his hand. Taking a sip, he was surprised by the strength of the alcohol. “Maker Leliana, what is this?! It’s impossibly strong for the sweetness of it.”

“It’s a secret,” she smiled as she took the flask back and tuck it into one of her many pockets. “Come inside, we can see from the main hall and you will have people near you.” Tugging on his arm, she tried to lead him towards the steps.

“Its down!” Cassandra screamed as Bull delivered a devastating attack, severing the dragon’s head from it’s body. Hyacinth was panting heavily, as she reached into her pouch, “who needs healing?” Downing a lyrium vial she began tending to the wounds before they set off.

“We don’t have time for this!” Varric yelled, pointing towards a spire. “Corypheus is trying to get away!”

Cullen was standing at the threshold of the main hall doors, staring out at the glowing, floating island. “I don’t hear the dragon…” he felt the air in his lungs tighten and his heart race. It was taking too long, far too long and he was playing over every horrible thought his brain could conjure up. Playing over this morning, he felt guilty for letting her use her magic to restore him. What if that bit of wasted effort was the reason she couldn’t see this through? What if he had just suffered and not let her use up that precious mana? He was pacing now, back and forth, his eyes glued to the floating mass of mountain hanging in the air. Drawing another breath, trying to calm his pounding heart her began muttering prayers to the Maker. Prayers to take him instead. Let her live. Let her enjoy a pure life while his tarnished hands can be laid to rest in her place. Tears began to well up in his eyes and he forced himself to stare up into the sky, to fight the cracks from becoming a fully broken man. 

Metallic and sour she spit the blood from her mouth. Clawing at her staff she tried to straighten up. This was it, the culmination of a year’s work. A year of blood, sweat and tears. Everything she had fought for, nearly died for was standing a few feet away from her. Corypheus. Above his hand, the orb, floating and crackling with magic. All while he was raving, calling out to his ancient Tevinter God as he struggled to control the energy from the artifact. Having knocked her aside, he returned his focus to the elven bauble. With his attention turned from her, she felt her anger swell. This, thing, before her was in her way. Blocking her life. Images of Cullen’s smiling face flashed through her head as her marked hand flickered and burned, “you bastard.” She growled low as she stepped forward, slowing closing the distance behind him, her marked hand outstretched.   
With a violent pop the orb slammed into Corypheus’s face, knocking into his jaw, a sickening bone crunch filling the air. She caught the orb with her marked hand and with the same power she’d felt when she closed the Breach she raised it to the sky, “this ends now!” 

Everything tingled and pulsed around her as the orb cast a stream of powerful magic into the renewed Breach. Sealing, twisting and shutting it with a force that rocked the ground she stood on. With the threat of the Breach taken care of she turned her attention to Corypheus. He was slowly rising to his knees, his jaw twisted around and clearly shattered. “You wanted to go to the Fade so badly, then enjoy!” The orb was smoking as she dropped it and reached out with the anchor. Feeling the Fade, she opened it inside his heart, twisting and contorting the magic to pull him inside. As he howled, she watched with pleasure as his body was warped and pulled into the small rift. Once he disappeared she closed it tightly. 

“Maker no!” Cullen dropped to his knees, as he watched the island in the sky begin to crumble and fall back to the ground. The sky no longer glowed green, a soft scar all that remained left in the once gapping maw in the air. As it fell, he felt the air rush from his lungs. Leliana and Josephine stood beside him, hands on his shoulders. “Maker, please…. Please…” 

She felt dizzy as she released the barrier. “Solas, Thom, Dorian,” her voice was hoarse as she struggled to stand again, her legs weak. Coughing she went to lean on her staff, only to find it twisted and broken. “Damnit,” she grumbled throwing it away from herself. Limping she pulled herself over rocks and debris. “Solas.”

“It’s broken,” his voice was sorrowful as he picked up the fragmented bits of the orb.

“I’m so sorry Solas. I wish it was different. It broke when I sealed the Breach again.” She clung to a large chunk of stone and mortar, spitting another bit of blood from her mouth.  
“I know. I… it doesn’t matter.” Solas came beside her, and touched her shoulder. He pushed a few healing spells through her, “it has been an honor to serve alongside you. My friend.”

“You speak as if I may not see you again,” she gave a weak smile as he turned his head, “Solas…”

“Inquisitor!!” Bull’s voice boomed over them and she turned to hobble down the side of rocks, debris and dirt. He called again, and she followed where it was coming from. “Solas, this…” she looked back to see him gone, the orb pieces missing as well. Wanting to turn around and look for him, she tried but the ground gave out and she slid down the slope till she came to a stop before her group of friends.

“Always did know how to make an entrance Bumbles,” Varric smiled, his split lip still oozing blood as he reached to help her up. “Come on, Curly’s probably fainted dead away with your latest trick. Falling from the sky is a whole new level of clumsy.” 

He couldn’t bare to look. Yet his eyes were focused on the gates. It was painstakingly gut wrenching to watch her companions drag themselves through the gates. Vivienne strolled through the gates first. Her usual prim and clean attire doused with blood, mud and singed, yet she held her head high as she walked through. Walking as if she were wearing the latest high fashion attire and the crowd was the Winter Palace. Next came Varric, battered and bloody as well. A new scar upon his lip, still bleeding every time he smiled and with the crowd cheering and clapping, his grin was the widest Cullen had ever seen the dwarf put on. Dorian and Bull came in, Dorian leaning heavily against the Qunari. Both saturated with mud and gore. Bull’s usual colourful pants now a solid shade of crimson. 

“I can’t…” he went to turn his head when Leliana smiled and pointed out. “She’s here.”

Hyacinth tried to walk forward, each step aching and burning. There was a tub in her room, and the thought of slipping into the steaming hot water was pushing her feet forward. Barely looking up she caught sight of him. His pale face watching her movements. Through the pain and the aches, she felt a spark of energy come over her. Pushing through Bull and Dorian, dodging around Varric she calmly sidestepped Vivienne. Climbing the steps to the main hall two at a time she lunged at Cullen. Jumping into his waiting arms, she started crying. Ignoring the crowd behind her, around her, underneath her she let the tears fall. 

“Ahem, Inquisitor.” Leliana smiled, “we should get you inside. If you could spare a moment to the crowd.”

Drying her tears against his mantle she nodded. She couldn’t speak. It was all so raw and all she could do was raise her fist in the air. 

Placating the crowd, everyone was riding a high, one she could easily pass off to her advisors. Heading directly to her room she barely spoke a word. Stripping her burnt and ruined armor as she went. By the time she reached the top she was naked, and in more than a natural sense. Seeing the tub, she could see the ripple of the water. Touching the rune, she waited as the water began to heat up. Pouring some of her bathing salts and preparing her soaps she set them on the stool next to it. When the water got to her preferred temperature she sank into it.


	25. EPILOGUE

Leliana and Josephine began planning a grand party the moment Hyacinth disappeared into her room. That night she didn’t come out, come morning she didn’t come out. Cullen had gone up shortly after her and he too hadn’t come out. 

No one rushed to collect either of them, the immediate threat now gone. Instead Josephine and Leliana together worked around the clock to get the party together and within a week there was wine, ale and delicate cakes all the way from Val Royeux sitting upon tables, filling the main hall. Music poured through the cathedral ceiling and people merrily danced, drank and ate. 

Hyacinth had joined the festivities and all her companions. Being sure to speak to each of them, they were well into the liquor as she giggled and flittered from conversation to conversation. Yet, there was somewhere else she wanted to be. With someone else. Sighing heavily, she made her way to her chambers only to be stopped by a firm hand and that oh so familiar baritone. 

Together they slipped to her room, the first of many nights together and it had become a pattern of behavior that the Commander was seen regularly coming from the Inquisitor’s quarters come morning. 

Another year passed by as they dealt with remaining rifts, Orlesian parties, Fereldan delegates, and her friends slowly returning to their walks of life. It became sorrowful and she slipped into a deep depression, at times staying in her room for days. 

By the time the Exalted Council was called she was a shell of her former self. Cullen could do nothing as she struggled to focus, struggled to maintain any sense of care. Leliana was the first to offer her a way out. A way to let the Inquisition go, and still do the good work she’d dreamed of. It was something she genuinely wanted, and thought hard about. Until the moment the body was found in the storage room.

Everything went into a tail spin. Eluvians, Qunari, agents of Fen Harel. It was as if the nightmares had come back. A year of peace, now she was thrust back into the role of savior as those she had risked so much for threatened to divide and destroy them. Her anchored hand became erratic and as they continued they uncovered a plot to over throw the southern states. She also uncovered that they were after Solas. Knew where Solas was. 

Her arm was killing her, this much she knew. Solas, he knew the most about it and perhaps he could help her, save her. 

With a renewed vigor she struggled and pushed, chasing the leader of the Qunari invasion force through the eluvian. Through to Solas. It was there, everything changed. He was Fen Harel, the elven dread wolf God. He explained to her his mistake, his error in letting Corypheus unlock his orb, his own power drained from a long slumber. He had thought the explosion would kill him, instead he escaped and Solas had to make it right. Only to burden her with the anchor. He quelled her arm as he spoke. Explaining his wish to restore the world of the Elvhen. To return magic to the world by tearing down the Veil. She tried to speak to him, wished to convince him he was better than this, that there was a better way. 

“I will cherish your attempt to convince me, once again, dear friend,” where the last words he spoke to her as he took her hand, “live well, with the time that is left.” His magic coiled around the nerves, and pain that stretched through her arm, up to her elbow and then with a flick of his hand it stopped. Pain stopped.

Looking down she watched as her glove turned to ash, her skin and bone flaking away in the breeze. Then she watched, in shock, as Solas disappeared into an Eluvian. 

Bull and Dorian found her. Carried her back through the Eluvians, back to the Winter Palace. Cullen took her from their arms as the Eluvian grew dark and shut behind them.   
Healers looked her over as Josephine and Leliana tried to stall the council. As they pleaded a loud bang caught everyone’s attention. Striding through the hall, a book tucked under her arm Hyacinth was angry. She tossed the book across the floor towards the gathered dignitaries. Her left arm missing from the elbow down, now bound and her shirt pinned up. “I have bled, sweat, and nearly died enough times in my short life to have had enough. You will not have the Inquisition, none of you. Because as of now, as the Inquisitor, I dissolved it! Any of my men who wish to continue to work and continue to do good, will go directly to the Divine,” tipping her head towards Divine Victoria she smiled through gritted teeth. “As of now, the Inquisition, is no more.” Not waiting for a word, she stormed right back out.

It was said the Inquisition forces quietly disbanded. That most of their friends went about their lives, not turning back to what was or could have been. Divine Victoria, or Cassandra as her friends called her, maintained a direct line to Hyacinth and her newly wed husband Cullen Rutherford. She had granted them the land Haven sat upon. It took them a while, and several visits from friends to clear the debris and lands but they made due. So much so, they gathered their own followers. People coming to aid the old Inquisitor and her Commander, building their Templar Withdrawal Clinic. 

In secret, away from prying eyes they met. In the hidden dungeon beneath the clinic. The one she had first found herself shackled and confused oh, so long ago. Speaking in hushed tones, Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine, Cullen and Hyacinth plotted their next course. They were going to save Thedas again, and this time they were going to need a little help from friends that Solas didn’t know. Hyacinth took the dagger and dug it into the map, the table brought in secret from Skyhold, straight into Tevinter. 

-END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where Flowers Dare to Bloom has been a journey. Learning to write and develop a weaker leading character into a strong woman was something I'd never done before and I'm not entirely sure I did it here lol. She's different from a strong, ready to lead Herald/Inquisitor and I wanted to try something different. It was a learning experience and one I'm happy you went with me on. Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed the ride. - Kiera


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